Bereavement may not utterly destroy

Bereavement left me  lonely and distraught
The maps I  used were no guide for this time
So love  seems dead, the left  feel mute, betrayed

The place where love once lived is now a void.
Yet even here a poet  can find new  lines
Bereavement left  me low, I felt destroyed

The thought of making love fills with distaste
To our own death, we seem to be resigned
For love  seems dead and we are mute, betrayed

Though we eat, our food has no real taste
Our meals  unbalanced lose thir past design
Bereavement leaves us lonely and destroyed

Yet on what narrative are such thoughts based?
The axioms can change, create new times.
Is love dread and how were we betrayed?

There can a meaning other than divine
Love’s down low  between these very lines
Bereavement   may not   totally destroy
Love may touch my heart , no demons’ toy