Faded, Not Forgotten

swordofparacelsius:

She was the sun that lit my path,
Guiding my path from stones and thorns.
She was my candle held against the dark
Protecting me all that dwelled within.
Her laughter was the lake on a sunny day,
Her love the fire of a tended hearth.
She was all the light inside my life.

Now she is the new moon,
Invisible.
But all the stars in the sky
Are my memories of her.
And they shall ever be.

———-

A mother’s passing should never be taken gently.

(This is not in reference to myself, but something that has been eating away at my brain.)