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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2143084-We-Die-Twice
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by Asder Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2143084
A poem about difficult decisions and the challenge of making one.
If he acts too late, it's because my courage faltered.
If I spoke too loudly, it's because his sensibility waned.
If he left too quickly, it's because my assumptions prospered.
And if I apologize too often, it's because his mistakes brought shame.

A whisper crawls across the floor:
Justify him, less we crumble into despair, together
And rise up decrepit, anew, missing his fire.


We truly apologize, my love
Everything has fallen apart
We've been crushed by the emptiness, enveloped in the nothing
The drought of fear now ends, abruptly.

Too long have we remained secure in a comforting veil of lies,
They mean so little to me,
These self-righteous claims to a forsaken crown,
But ever they matter so fervently,
For truth be told:
"Fear is a life's ambition to challenge."


We close my eyes and find him standing among a dark absence,
Petrified, the doubt holds me close.
The cold creeps steadily up my fingers, through my arms, a shiver.
Terrified and desperate, but unwilling to collapse,
It seduces me, my whole succumbs to this strange reality.

This cold pool, unrecognizable by sight, but not by feel.
My comfortable obscurity, my familiar mystery filled pit,
Of questions and fear I frequently speak so fondly of,
Where faces once frowned sorrowfully, a faux mask of joy laughs endearingly, mocking me.

Another lie contrived of doubt and apathy tries to steal the inspiration out from under us,
Unyielding to the pain, unhindered by the fear,
The ignorant veil attempts to shroud perspective and hold him back,
But Alas! I have called upon him, and he as we take a deep breath,
Our mending a blending in a dark orange furor.

We rise up, taking me with he, and he with me.
"Release yourself!" The Cold calls to the Warm,
"Open your eyes!" The Warm responds to the Cold,
Their battle of wit and will, of heart and mind, illuminate the souls desire,
An argument that has no conclusion, aside decision.
And upon it's making, the Cold and the Warm become one.

Suddenly, without subtlety, a revelation manifests itself,
Where once a vaguely intricate understanding resided,
A simpler truth adorns its structure; a fundamental concept decrypts the confusion,
With a sense of pride that was always there, but remained submerged:
"Change is the Property of None; Possessed by All."
Written in his familiar hand writing...
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