Where do they go? The ones who are no longer here?
Why am I here? With such a small group?
Why is it so dark? Are those stars splattered against the sky?
Am I on an island? Barely floating on the sea?
Can we get out of this chill? Why is the air as still as a glacier?
Is that another island? With so many I know?
Why are they standing in a group? Why are they staring at me?
Is their island drifting away? Where are they going?
Why is no one smiling?
Will I lose them in the dark?
Are shadows always that black?
Why are their faces so pale?
And why do their faces have to be the last thing I see?
Where do they go? The ones who are no longer here?