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My love,

How long would I suffer?
How long would it be as I await your return?
How many days would I blankly live my life, reliving the day that you die?
Seeing the men who had killed you?
If you could see me now, would you recognize me?
Or would I be in the shape of someone foreign?
How long would I accept this like, before I decide it has been long enough?
Before I dig up your grave I had given to you and look upon your face, regardless of the rotting flesh, or the lack of any?
How much longer before I would hold you in my arms?
Before I would bury my head in the crook of your neck?
How long would I have to wait to be buried alive?
Would I even die or be reborn ?
Is there even a heaven or hell?
I'm sure at this point, you would already know.
Either way, I shall see you again, my love--mon amour--till then, live on.
If for no one else, then for me.
Because once you're gone...

...who will be there for me?