What’s Left?

I wrote this 3 1/2 months after Eliana died. I realize that I’m probably depressing the heck out of everyone who reads this, but hey, it is a journey of grief, right? Anyway, I guess writing is my way of letting out all of these horrible, dark, depressing feelings. Doing so relieves the pressure a bit, otherwise it just leaks out or explodes at other times. Better let it out in my writing than in my life. Thanks for bearing with me.

This started out as a poem, but I like it better as song lyrics, so I changed it around a bit. This is my first completed song. Now if I could just find someone who writes great music….

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What’s Left

by Deanna Parish

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I prayed at your bedside

and wept myself dry.

Now I’m left here grieving

and wondering why.

If God’s in control,

then why did you die?

A reason for everything

just feels like a lie.

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So what now? What’s left?

Just a shadow of myself

and the agony of your death.

What now? What’s left?

A lifetime of pain spent waiting

to take my final breath.

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Now I spend my days

just wanting you here

and I spend my nights

with your ghost and my tears.

I hate my new self;

full of sorrow and tears.

I hate my new life;

because nothing is clear.

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So what now? What’s left?

Just a shadow of myself

and the agony of your death.

What now? What’s left?

A lifetime of pain spent waiting

to take my final breath.

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I’m tired of feeling

like there’s no end in sight

of the absence of joy

and the absence of light.

I’m tired of knowing

this will never be made right.

I’m tired of the aching

and I’m tired of the fight.

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So what now? What’s left?

Just a shadow of myself

and the agony of your death.

What now? What’s left?

A lifetime of pain spent waiting

to take my final breath.

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You’re gone,

so what’s left?

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