Occupy My Home

How strange this thought alive tonight, My own recollection, birthed and taken wing; How beautiful in flight... How strange, I think: A broken heart makes no sound Soft or loud to fill the air... Sheds not one drop of sweet red blood; Strange..this hard jawed pain The most mortal wound inbred Does not kill...does not strike the body dead. Not for the privilege of life Nor the nectar of surcease Are we thrown back into the arms of the living; A deserted bride standing bitter stiff At the bottom of an endless stairway Dressed in designer rags... Holding close a handful of tear wet rice... The cheap promise of vows taken twice Beneath a canopy of flowers Torn from the earth... But these flowers gift no fragrance Or soothe the lies above the dirt. How strange, this farewell to laughter In the pale silver fullness Of time allowed To the end of innocence To the end of time And the end of questions... How strange these thoughts alive tonight Some bitter measure of relief in practiced comfort Still suffice for those who do not look too closely Into Autumn's promise - however - forever given That Winter will not linger In stark affection For some un-numbered night without a name. And stronger souls than I Will guard my life Under deathly cold, impartial snow... How strange, To Occupy this singular place Of living thought fragile as spider lace... Standing alone on a side walkway Leading to a cold and silent house Still waiting for me to come home. How strange, to Occupy the pain Of the bloody footprints Leading away; How strange these thoughts alive tonight Of what was my own Hard earned safe Haven... Supposedly, for ever..and beyond forever For all those beloved to come after the Promise.. The Promises I made...but could not keep. How strange... An empty house can cry The same dark tears as stronger souls Will try to hide... How strange.