Dark clouds drift slowly across the leaden sky.
The air is stagnant, still, heavy with promise of the tempest to come.
Standing, abandoned, forlorn, on the edge of the abyss I wait.
Tears of anguish course down my cheeks, vanishing into the dust.
My head bowed in grief as if in worship to the god Aeolus.
The sound of my low sobbing a mantra to his approach.
Dark clouds drift slowly across the chaos in my mind.
The old fear has brought forth the fruit of despair as it was ordained.
Sounds of thunder arise, the harbinger of the furore to come.
Thoughts of what has been lost, expunged, from my view overwhelm me.
Memories, so many memories so many colours all turned to grey.
The moan breaks free rising with the wind, a sirens song of futile love.
Dark clouds drift slowly across the ruin of my soul.
The sky is lit with bolts of white light joining heaven and earth.
Scars of wounds long healed reopen, I bleed for each friend lost.
Terrible is my lament as my head rises and I turn to face the gale.
More than heart can bear, the pain, the grief, the loss, my true friend.
The crescendo of sound and light is reached, the edge of the abyss stands empty.
Copyright © Shane Cooper | Year Posted 2014
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