Her life means nothing after death; departs.
You watch her, staring, silent vibrato.
Feign sorrow, pain and wear “suits of woe” but
Your sadness, half-hearted, means little now.
Defeated now, her motion gone, her eyes,
They’re dark, filled bottom up with empty light.
Your suitcase set, you’re good to go: depart,
Not like you threw away her heart; goodbye.