And dust is lying on the bed
Where Beauty used to lie,
But, ever since the bond’s been dead,
You’ve let your whole life die.
You haven’t eaten for a week
And haven’t drunk in years;
As if you don’t know how to speak,
None needs lend you their ears;
And, where you used to look toward
A future in the sun,
The very thought now makes you bored
And shows a lack of fun.
At times, you like to reminisce.
How long, though, can you live like this?
https://unsplash.com/photos/uaxGGzSuDm0
Mourning
