The Prospect of Bereavement

I give you this, my darling,
    The world is unco cruel,
With snarling met with snarling,
    Malevolence in duel.

When anger leads to rancor
    And hurt returned for hurt,
Without hope for an anchor
    Or option to avert.

Regardless, you, my brother,
    And I, amidst this strife,
Toned down, to one another
    According love and life.

It may well be you saved me,
    Or may be I saved you,
But rage no more enslaved me
    When love came shining through.

So now, to see you suffer,
    Anon to see you die,
Becomes in prospect rougher
    Than any past gone by.

I pray that I remember
    What lonely hearts have learned,
The warm glow of an ember
    In wake of great love burned.