Cause you, you, you, you and me could move a mountain You, you, you, you and me could calm a war down You, you, you, you and me could make it rain now You, you, you, you and me could stop this love drought
𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓
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𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 5 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫... ఌ
Love drought love • drought refers to a state of longing for love or intimacy, often due to a lack of meaningful relationships or a feeling of emotional emptiness. It's a metaphorical extension of the term "drought," which typically describes a period of low rainfall or water scarcity. In the context of love, it signifies a period of emotional or romantic dryness, where there's a persistent need for connection and affection that is not being met.
"Here we gather to lay to rest a man identified as a father, a husband, a grandfather, a great-grandfather." The priests voice fell over the gathered crowd whose eyes peered down into the decorated dirt beyond them.
Elias Acius displayed along the top of the casket decorated in roses that everyone dropped down into the dug out pit to scatter along the rose gold wood. Light cries sounded throughout the different bodies that occupied the space, some loud and some silent, hidden behind the darkness of their shades.
But one set of eyes in particular stared down into the carved out space with an expression so unreadable behind his limo tinted frames. His hand grasped that of his wife, who used her free one to pat away gently at her makeup to refrain from allowing the water that leaked from her eyes to ruin it. Only small singular tears managed to trickle down her cheeks, because she instead had to act as a comfort hearing her daughter in front of her almost at a sob with the way she clung onto her mother to release her tears.
"We lay to rest a man who created a legacy that we can see today. He began a family of children and grandchildren, great grandchildren." The priest emphasized as he glanced around at Syre, Isabelle, and their children.
The silence of the priest offered a moment for the family to all step up towards the dug out dirt plot where their eyes looked down at the casket. Syre's eyes naturally lingered towards his mother who stood on the other side directly across from him, nothing but brokenness in her eyes. She'd cried so much during the service, that it seemed almost impossible for Kimberly to find any more tears to shed over the circumstances they'd been dealt.
She held a 5 year old Xenia close to her, while Ezra occupied himself with the grass right next to where they stood. He waited until eventually, Kimberly's eyes met his to give her son the most faint of a smile that he could read right through.
