To Comfort The Grieving

Please do not try to understand,
Spare all inventions to relate,
Speak not of hopeful future plans, 
Restrict trite mysteries of fate.

Constrain the wind beneath your throats, 
And issue neither moans nor sighs,
Withhold all worldly anecdotes,
And affable phantasmic lies.

Save words which conjure deities,
Who's greater good shall be fulfilled,
Spare loathsome life's realities,
Contrived as to inspire the will.

Stand still as freshly graven stone,
One clings to lest be swept away,
By quiet tides of blood and bone.
There's nothing helpful you might say.