Gone  

Spirit, that gave me life.

Why did you leave without a word?

Or inquisition?

To let us reach an agreement?

When the Creator called, you left quietly;

leaving the flesh void and lifeless.

You abandoned a precious abode,

just anywhere you chose.

Did you not hear me say, “I want to live forever?”

Or when I prayed, “I want to go like Elijah?”

Oh, spirit, that gave me life.

I should have appreciated life more,

rather than complain about those who left;

I should have loved those who did not.

I should have counted every breath. 

Because, in the grave,

How do I express my gratitude?