Psychic Bereavement

Not long after my most recent encounter with death, I have had the misfortune of meeting another fleeting life. The banks of my heart are overflowing with pain and misery, but I am truly helpless against such a formidable entity. How can I comfort those whose hearts have been brushed by death, when I myself am so shaken? The person in question has already been taken, and I weep uselessly for yet another death. It is worse when you know the person so very well. There is nothing that I can say to describe the pain that is constricting my heart. This death hits closer to home than the previous one, perhaps because it only increases my sadness at the prevalence of death surrounding me. It is passing by us, great gleaming drops in an ageless hourglass, and everywhere around me, people are dying, are suffering, and I can only seek slight comfort in the fact that death may have brought them respite from the trials of daily life. Drops of blood litter the roads of my past like grim tombstones that mark the passage of time. How can I tell these departed souls how much they mean to the world, to those whose lives have been touched by them? How much have they lost, have they left unfinished? It is worse when the cause of death is so violent. All I can see in my mind right now is shards of glass, coloured by ghastly red liquid as the scent of death circles above like a carrion bird. I cannot cross the great divide that separates the living from the dead, I cannot tell them how much they will be missed. What can I do, when I come face to face with death again, just days after seeing another life scythed away? My tears will not help, and I cannot understand the pain I feel on behalf of those who drift away on the black wings of the angel of death.
I am on the wrong side of the fence.