why do we mourn the dead when we are the ones who suffer?
fiction
edward w pritchard
Why do we mourn the dead when we are the ones who suffer?
Late at night a mournful train whistle blows far off in the night. The moaning continues insufferably. Then the sound is gone, removed soon forgotten. Forever silenced casting no net into the future. Significance nil.
So it is with those who pass on. A tumultuous sea of suffering and no one to share it with, no one who understands. Alone we sing into a sea of sorrow.
Please Lord explain so I understand. I am on fire with expectation. Moaning insufferably soon forgotten.
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