The ghosts do not really exist, but their absence is so much strong that creates in us a presence which makes us weak, which supports us
This is the absence of those we loved that creates an almost tangible void, because the love we had given to them now is an orphan who looks for a target
For some of them we were aware of it, we had been prepared for the worst, but the other ones disappeared suddenly
Without any advance warning
We did not say goodbye, they had left without our permission.
Because death has its own reasons that our reason is unaware of
Thus we are regrouped with an utopian comfort
Several of us are stronger but not less sad
It is in the solitude that we mourn for them, because when we are alone, we feel the effects
We tame the pain and the presence of our absent ones
Our absent ones are always there, in our mind and in our memories
In the video of vacations, in these photos full of smiles
Our absent ones surround us and remain by our sides. They come back to life in our dreams ,as if nothing has happened
We are reassured by the suffering that pinch our neck, saying that wherever they are surely have less pain than us
So we walk, we laugh, we sing
But their shadows dwell
In a corner of our brain
In a corner of our happiness
We have some projects, we plan our tomorrows
We decide the way, we look at the future in our hands
And in the heart of action, in our victories and our hells, time to time we imagine that our absent ones are watching what we are doing
Every life is a miracle, but the end is annoying
I am well informed, that we will not leave here alive
Must learn to accept it for trying to grow old happily
But every year our absent ones get a little more numerous
Every new disappearance transform our hearts into lace
But the time passes and the long lived pains become pastel
For once the time is a true ally
Every hour passes is an ointment, it will take thousands
Me , the dead, the missing ones,
I do not speak much
I write about them
I tickle the taboo subjects
This big mystery which waits for us,
Our ultimate point common to all
The ghosts do not really exist, but their absence is so much strong that creates in us a presence which makes us weak, which supports us
This is the absence of those we loved that creates an almost infinite void that inspire first degree texts
Must say that death lacks irony