Tales From the Home, Episode 8

A cold, still river surface.
There's no sound in the darkness.
Gripped in the hold of death gaze,
Though a slight light once caressed,
Glowing softly, growing so.
Such a small light, he could go,
But he stayed, even stronger,
Lingering even longer.

To feel the warmth on my skin.
Softly, gently like a kiss.
Bringing to life, he could win.
Warmer, like a gentle breeze.
And I stayed in that hold
For a long time from the cold,
Until all things became bright
Like rosebuds and the blue sky.

Green leaves, they swayed.
In the summer breeze, they bounced.
In the autumn sun, they danced.

Shining through trees whose leaves met,
The sun cast shades that shone while
Touching his strong silhouette,
That lovely man with the smile.
He filled all my memories
With great happiness and bliss
As I lived year after year
'Til the last time without fear.