Du siehst aus wie immer

Outside in the hallway stands your wife.
She stares into space, but I can see right
through the tears that washed away the dark blue
from her eyelids.
I can't respond to her pain at all.
Her voice, never sounding weaker.
I hold her hand like I'm forced to,
too tight and for too long.
Together we step into your room.
You turn around
and smile silently.
You look the same as always.

Your wife only comes here to cry.
With words that seem foreign to you,
she stutters about the kids
and their questions.
She doesn't know what else to say.
A white coat
glides in.
He says, almost a third
of them made it through this.
Your wife tugs at the roses,
the tension gets worse.
She silently hears the prognosis.
You turn around
and smile silently.
You look the same as always.

The autumn wind blows cold into us.
The winter that follows could be your last.
How many days will you stay here?
The world without you, the thought slips away from me.
So close yet such a foreign world.
We never learned
to hold each other when we fall.
We cling to the silence
like a glimmer of hope
and we dance our circle.
Don't let go.

Don't let go.
Don't let go.
How can it be
that this world keeps turning?
Don't let go.
Don't let go.
Aren't you afraid?
Aren't you at all afraid
of death?

Of your death...