Paradigm - June 1997
For those who mourn - alice
(page 11/20)

For those who mourn

A friend has died
...well, not my friend - but a friend of my friends.
It affects me still when I see my friends cry.
I share in their grief, as though my friend had died.
I add to their grief as I want to die,
when the black moods take me and the pains increase...

Wait.

We are young, and death far off
unless something bad happens and life goes wrong.
When the bad things subside,
I see the fear and pleading in my friends' eyes.
Yet the guilt remains despite their embraces;
instead of me death took a friend.
Blackness swirls again; I reach for the knife...

Wait.

The phone rings - my friend, my lover is there.
I hear him cry and reach out to him.
He is part of me: when he lives, I live, so we can never die.
He shows me a rainbow, a mass of colour.
I pick out the separate strands of my friends' lives.
The ribbon of my friend remains,
the friend I thought was gone.

Wait.

My friend returns and shows me truth,
he shows me hope and life.
He lives on still because we care, through our grief and tears.
He is there, a part of us,
and because we live, he lives.
Only when we all die will he die,
and then we will all be
together again.

Wait.

alice