A poem of loss |
I was an escapee on the run From the heat and destruction Of desolation Isolation Searching for greener freedoms She met me on a secret path Just the two of us Building and constructing A world for two Where gentle winds calmed and cooled And the warmth of her sun Was captured in our entwined fingers As we lay And whispered secrets in the high grass It was just us In perfect days We walked along teeming rivers Sipping from each other’s hand We stripped ourselves bare Souls ignited Melding into each other kissing under sweet stars and full moons Just us through Perfect nights In our comfort We slept through days As our perfection waned Mutating into harsher and colder winds Which blew between us One by one drops of pressured truth Fell heavily Burdened us The thunderous truth woke her Relevatory lightning opened her eyes It shook And broke her into her reality her hands now Shaking, unsure no longer held past warmth We still walked along Slowly dying drying rivers dusted and cracked Our Eden slowly dissolving Before dawn she said she couldn’t stay And that I couldn’t come Her cold hand Slipped away One finger at a time Leaving all of me dangling Outstretched Her soul slowly pulled away Stitch by stitch disentangling Disengaging itself From mine Leaving what was left to face an unknown day Packing up All I We had become Recounting many days retracing few steps Into this A deserted landscape Unpacking and rebuilding my home a silent prison I recognized in the darkness A familiar haunting scent despondency and loneliness of solitary captivity Of which there is no real escape |