the heartbreak will be fleeting.

the loss will be masked

by the promise of a better future

and the neverending eulogies.

comfort will be created from thin air

heavenly signs interpreted from butterflies

reassurance from a camera glitch

no, an orb.

like a moth to a flame,

one with a hole in their heart

will sniff out a psychic

and search for love in tarot cards.

wherever there is light,

the flowers will find it.

because why should death be so devastating

if everything holy is true?

if we’re all to meet again,

what’s a little time apart?

we can’t comprehend a concept

being a necessary part of life

and simultaneously its antithesis.

are we manic?

or are we just too simple

to truly know our gods?