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ArtistAn old white bearded man statue with the concrete top layer breaking away and dissolving into the wind exposing the man sitting on the edge of the bed looking to the other side of the bed where his wife used to sleep before her passing away, show grief in the old man's face melacony by Mike Winkelmann, cinematic, stylized 3 d graphics, beautiful masterpiece
The coffee's black, the kitchen's cold
Just like the stories we never told
I still reach out to pour your cream
Before I wake from this heavy dream
The newspaper sits on your side of the wood
I'd read it to you if I only could
But the dust just settles where you used to be
Across the table away from me
I'm asking the shadows, I'm asking the wall
"Why did you take her? Why her first of all?"
Do You have her, Lord
In the House where the light never dies?
Can You hold her close?
Wipe the silver years from her eyes
I am lonely, I'm broken, I'm shivering here
In the silence of every passing yeah
