Abundance extends to lush

If I had a daily bliss
a somewhat cheerful view
a silent grace I could perceive
to grow as I pursued

Then when, around midnight
instead of wasted from my sight
loaded beyond the utmost space
I'd have one average night
I measure every fucker I meet
with analytic eyes
I wonder if their grief weighs like mine
or has an easier size

I wonder if, when these years have piled
if the pain will still be as real
the early hurt, such a lapse
a lifetime of grief bereaved of appeal

Will I just go on aching?
through centuries above
exposed by god to a larger pain
by contrast with the promise of love

They say heaven is packed and that's where we go
but I've got one hell of a surprise
your death is but one and came but once
and only nailed your eyes

And though I may not guess the right kind
correctly, yet to me
and the piercing comfort it creates
passing portions of fiery glee

The denotes of the fashions of the cross
of those that stand alone
still fascinated to presume
that some has a view like my own