When their loved ones do defect

I still don’t know  how deep inside  my heart
Is a strange belief, he has not died
I can’t believe  he’s never coming back
Is it self-deception or a lie?

I wakened up and thought I heard his breath
Then remembered all the details my loss.
I wonder if I’ll see his shadowed ghost?
And if I do, no doubt I shall get cross

Like children taken from a mother’s arms
When she returns they’re angry  yet forlorn
Too young to speak, to verbally express
They  bite the breast and wish that they were grown.

Even  those who rationally accept
Are struck dumb when  their loved ones  do defect