When someone dies it’s how that matters
If from illness as swift as a knife
Then a numbness and loss is felt

If by old age, the sleep that never ends
It can be a quiet acceptance, a tear
Less shock and maybe more heart

If death takes the innocent
Then rage flares in many
That is only assuaged by blood

If a comrade falls then it’s hard
But I know tears turn to rage
If the fallen was special to you

Yet what of you if it’s you who fell
What would you have others do
To say to kin you suffered no pain

To then drink hard to wash your soul
To rage your loss and avenge you
Yet, you will never know

Only the dead know peace
Friends and kin know only pain
And for some that pain lingers forever