The cruelness of life

At your grave I do not see you there
lying among the rest you knew so well.

I see you in a world of others.
Beauty so deep, rivers of gold.
And you are happy, just as you wanted to be.

Am I just saying these things to make me cope?
Or do I know you are happy?

I will find out some day my friend.

So instead of speculating,
You are just a rotting corpse.