Death has come and made life real.

The gray of drab November rain,
Clings to my cheeks, like ice tears.
See the quivering of my soul,
Shaking beneath my frozen skin.

A child has died today.
Can you know such dread as touches me?
My son has fallen in the night.
His steps once sure, are silent.

A breath like icy crispness hangs upon his corpse.
The crystals shine as jewels.
But oh, for all the diamonds of the world,
That would I gladly give, and more, for him.

How can I bear the knowledge that shatters all illusion?
Can love break apart the cold and lifeless lips,
And place the warmth of living breath within?
Will the sun ever rise again?

In the darkness, mumbling incoherent mutterings of grief,
Broken and sliced open with shards of desolation,
A drop of love in ocean's sorrowful depths reminds me:
Death has come, and made life real.