Adequate propinquity

Grief is a blessing, that prepares you for any fight
It can make your eyes see the color of the night
No matter how deeply you feel chagrined
It can make your ears hear the words of the wind.

Whisper in the sky, dream of Amethyst
A violet glare shines upon my aching soul
Metaphorical blood, teardrops take their toll

Yet the French inside yells, "Ne sois pas triste !"

As always, he can't refrain
He speaks words that hit me like a freight train

"She's dead, all's dead, your pain won't fade
No weapon can pierce its armor,
Like that of the fierce fighter who ignores the end
Not even morphine could strike your stupor.
You feel the warmth, you feel the ache
All you crave is to finally awake
But unlike yourself,
Your eyes aren't closed
You gaze upon your glee deposed
That chapter's ended, now put that book back on its shelf."

Truth, swift as lightning
Words, echoing in my mind
As an epiphany, one of a kind ;

Death is everlasting
Death is omnipresent
Death is omnipotent
Death is a cunning thing.
At first you're afraid,
But then you look at it, in the eye
And it sings, like a mermaid
To its requiem, eventually you comply
And the more you see her,
The more you love her.

Adequate propinquity

She'll end up your only
Friend

And she'll be here with you 'til the very
End.