Sleeping.

He lies there, gently sleeping,
His breathing fast and deep.
I sit closely at his bedside.
My damaged heart it weeps.
I can't escape this feeling,
Can't understand this need,
To always have him with me.
I know that it is greed.
The try, attempt, to comfort.
They say it's for the best,
That living for him was painful,
And now in peace he'll rest.
That knowledge does not help me,
Does not remove the pain.
The dark cloud's omnipresent.
Will I ever feel the same?