Wandering Soul Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

What is left after death?
Pictures, images of things you did, people you were with.
Deep sadness expressed in tears, voice choked with sorrow.
Life for you has ended and somehow I am expected to go on?
Will peace ever find it's way into my life or will this
disharmonious grief be always with me?
As if a thousand miles away, yet I am still here beside
you.
But, it's only a memory that I can hold for a little
while before it fades again from sight - another day and
time to behold.
One memory leads to another until I can hold no more,
then without realizing where they've gone - they have
stopped.
Loss is so devastating - so alone.
It feels like a dark closet that I cannot find my way
out of.
A desert at night, and I am a wandering soul upon it.