Together at last. How much time has truly passed? Sixteen years cannot ever describe it. When there is a God, I live only to find you. While you were looking down below, death and his shadow crept up behind you. I pray there is a heaven, but my hands lay broken beside me. A husk of my once great self lays down to hide you. In a cradle of dirt, trees grow to spite you. I am the hand that rocks the grave, and the deterrent of rot. At least that is what I hope. All I can hope to do now is cope.
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