I turned around and you were gone.
Just like that, you disappeared.
Alas, you crossed the Rubicon
even sooner than I feared.
And so I don my cloak of sorrow,
now immune to life’s surprises.
For though the sun will shine tomorrow,
you won’t be here when it rises.
Yet I’ll not grieve on your behalf
nor weep upon your silver head.
Oh no, like you I choose to laugh,
and sing your song of life instead.