The void is real. And final.
We miss their touch and their warm embrace.
We miss the comfort and warmth of their reassuring voice.
We miss seeing the glisten of their eyes and their smiling face.
Our eyes scour the skies praying for divine intervention, that their face might appear.
Yet, it never does.
The ache is real, as is the hollow feeling in our hearts.
Death, the great imposter, steals forever. No second chances. No do-overs.
There is so much to say, and so much to share.
We find small solace, that they watch from above.
While we carry our broken hearts and know,
That, without them, our lives will never be the same again.
About Hemant Rustogi