Fear of Loss (Funeral: The Last Rites Competition Entry)

Always the same scenario...
repeated in my head.
Long days now rarely do
stop haunting in my bed.

The wind is rather quiet;
alas, a whispered song.
I'm blind, my eyes are shut.
For I must be wrong.

No one has died yet;
but I attend a funeral;
for my love is upset
to lose, though presumable.

The weepers shriek,
but can't revive,
along the corpse still vivid.
A mourner, I'm weak,
deader inside,
than the soul forever lifted.

The dead are gone;
but I am here.
Lonely,
on a graveyard.

So, please respawn,
Grim Reaper dear,
my homely
nostalgia inward...

And suddenly, I am awake.
My healthy relative is home.
Under the cozy sun they bake
and our heart feels warm.

God, please put the pain to end.
For I carry an illness inside.
As the years pass, I try to fend
for myself before they die.

I can't retain the sands of hours.
So I hug them,
A new morning...

The smell of bread is ours,
the early sun then
soothes my pre-mourning...

It is always the orange ray
that gently caresses my room...
and as I start the day...
I blush and I bloom.

I love our sun encouraging,
it keeps my family safe.
So please, keep nourishing
us.... for my brutality's a grave.