The life of the world as it is now is not living,
It is a bad process of dying.
It doesn’t matter when we die, so long as we live fulfilling the deepest desire that is in us.
And a life which is a denial of the deepest desire is much worse than any death, it is a lie
I have drunk a lot of whiskey since you both died
And I can no longer hide
Behind this screen of anonymity.
Yes, I have stood in empty spaces
I have walked along the winter beach
Stripped of everything except wind and sand and sea
I have looked into the summer sky for your blue-blue eyes
But all, all, I see, repeatedly, is gray-clouds a-skimming the shadows
Where mummies and daddies rely on each passing day
Do not take my baby away.
And all, all I can say, in this long goodbye,
Is if you could look again into my blue-blue eye
You would not sigh nor pass my sadness by
So easily: as I listen again to my son's dying sigh.