The silence grows louder, and now
There are fewer tears, as the weeks,
(I no longer count the days), lengthen
Into years. Empty, sterile, waiting,
While the clock ticks dusty Time away,
Widening the gap between us, and not
A minute will fain to stay, longer
Than it needs, but gone, gone in haste;
A butterfly broken on a wheel,
And scattered along the waste.
Some memories linger, but fading;
You're nearly someone I used to know.
And when I cry out to Him for an answer,
He replies, 'Because it was so'.
