Tell me something, here I stand.
You fall silent, though demand
that I listen well, and care, and speak,
and fill the air when the moment's weak.
As I lay, I dream of time:
the happiness when you were mine;
the failure of my love for you;
our dreams that failed to come true.
And when you stopped, I stopped, too.
My calling to you is the same
Except with you, we remain.
And let me know, why would that be?
Being that once, we were you. Then me.
And I know the answer from long ago,
I know you felt you had to go.
Your friends here, they're here, they miss you so,
more than you could ever know.
But when you decided to leave, you did
even though you were just a kid.
We all were - kids. Young, but aged.
Now closed in, now incaged.
We're calling you, we find your name
without response. We're not the same.
And I wonder if you pondered Death
before you took your last breath.
And if you gladly took her hand
and saw her battle Life and Land.
I often wonder, where was God?
Was he too busy traveling abroad?
Too busy for you to seek His name,
too busy for compassion, or shame.
I often wonder what you became.
And I know not, because your face
held no sign of Saving Grace
as I looked upon it - pale, and dead.
But maybe you found Peace instead.
And in my failure, I shall rise,
though I'm haunted by goodbyes.
Bound together, you and me,
as well as one more, beautiful she,
and we make three.
We three, we well could be
friends to the highest degree.
Except for one, the absentee,
She who leaves the family tree,
and instead fights to be free.
I see the sadness attack your face.
This is the girl that none can replace.
And I know you've always loved her so,
And who could bear to let her go?
During this time, I tremble in fear
for all of those that I hold dear.
For Death and Life shall fight again
many times over fates of men,
and who should win? I hope that one
can save you all from what's been done.
And here's the truth: we're all terrified
of being alive with Death close beside.