The Widower.

She's gone; we two were one.
But now alone, an empty house,
I've lost my wife; I've lost my spouse.
No longer one, now less than half,
No one to kiss, no one to laugh.
Empty arms and an empty bed
Heart that aches, tears are shed.
So what is this that we call life,
Birth, marriage, death, the joy the strife?
Is there a purpose; was there a plan,
Primordial soup! God created man?
Did we develop, gradually evolve,
Questions my mind needs to resolve?
Awake my soul for though you mourn.
You are in Christ; you are re-born.
Alive in Him, a new creation,
A citizen of one holy nation.
And she though gone is not lost.
Like you was bought at a great cost.
By Him that hung on Calvary's tree.
Died your death; God forsaken He.
The battle won Christ did arise,
He sees the tears well in your eyes.
Outside a grave He once did weep,
Men call it death; He calls it sleep.
And so the sleeping shall arise,
Caught up to Jesus in the skies.
Should you survive until that day?
A brand new body; snatched away.
Again united, with a myriad beside,
Wedded to Jesus, His glorious bride.
Then no more tears and no more pain,
Soul; death's no more, your faith retain.