Respects to the Dead

You can't live until you've died.
From night to day, a deterrence fell from the sky.
Never again shall one feel the grief.
A love was lost on the 19th.
But a feeling still haunts the one who seeks it.
Memories shaded in color and sketched with black.
A new emptiness repeats itself throughout this dead heart.

It's a story without an ending.
It's a face without a name.
It's a fear with no culprit.
It's a wound with no abrasion.

It never goes away. It's there in the morning and in the evening.
The shade never leaves. Some days it hides.

You'd like to undo whats been done.
But the reaction wasn't caused by you're doing.
A warm touch can sew the hole and heal the sick.
You don't know what you had until you lost it.