It's pouring.

What words can I use?
What words do I use?
What words can be said?
What words should be said?

Your silence speaks for more than I will ever hear.
My silence speaks of the emptiness in my mind.
Nothing I say now will mean anything to you.
Anything I say now is only air exhaled from my mouth.

Where once you sat and slept,
only space occupies it.
Where once you talked and laughed,
only silence occupies it.

Death is something we cannot avoid,
but something we can always defeat.
I can only hope that in your last few moments,
you looked death in the eyes and was able to smile.

At the end of it all,
was it worth the pain and suffering?
At the end of it all,
I hope you enjoyed it.

As we set your world on fire,
As we sent what was left of you away,
As we searched our minds for memories we could take,
We paid our last respects to the man you were.

The searing heat and flames of the furnace snatch your corporeal from us,
returning everything to the desert of existence.
But on this side of the glass window,
The skies are grey and it is pouring.