He was 34 years old, laying there hard and cold
The glimmer of his sweet blue eyes never again to shine
The hugs a mother would never feel again
It just ain't natural the mother cries, for a child to go first
The questions reel through my mind and of course, one being "WHY?"
Life......Death......it just isn't fair
How does one go on? The grave, so dark, so permanent.
But only the shell is in that deep, dark hole
The spirit has flown on to the after-world, never again to feel pain, hurt or sorrow
Rejoicing will come in the morning.

mamayaya