The illusion of angels
In that hour when dark seems near
Sings a choir with voices that sound so pure
Hands lay cold upon your chest
To wake you from your mortal rest
From a place some fear but some have yearned
For me it seems you are returned
To shine your light a little more
If not as brightly as before
Mourning is a selfish thing
No matter what comfort death might bring
My pain hurts as all I grieve
I’ll hide the anger as you leave
I am just as sorry for me as you
You’ve made the peace you wanted to
For as we stood around you crying
We could not help but hear the dying
So mourning was a selfish thing
I pray your comfort death did bring
I pray your soft lights guide you home
I know that now you’re not alone