Widower

She got taken last night,
by creatures of the dark.

And hear her everywhere,
and I see here every day,
hair came down on her shoulders,
like tides on rocky shores,
beautifully rough,
like her gaze as she looks at me.

Things will die and rot away,
I only beg that I'll survive today,
never to see my wife again.

I'll break down eventually,
suffer ever so silently,
things will never be the same.