Bereft

They have left, and we wither on the vine.
They have left, and we sicken over time.
They have left, and gaping holes appear.
They have left, and we crave them near.

They depart, leaving us to weep.
They depart, and we are wounded deep.
They depart, and we fall to pieces.
They depart, and Life suddenly ceases.

They are gone, so what does this all mean?
They are gone, and we curse and are obscene.
They are gone, and we question in anger.
They are gone, we are weakened not stronger.

We remain, confused and bewildered.
We remain, raw feelings unfiltered.
We remain, and must come to terms.
We remain, and they will not return.

Lost and alone, we feel bereft.
We try to make sense of this divine theft.
But as we grieve and mourn, our dark turns to day.
We return to sunlight, into blue from the grey.