The Vigil
Sitting death a corpse of times loss in drips
I'll wait, she said in eons voice while zealots rage
His source of pride lay as dust once adorned
Pendulums swing marking time dresses in rust
Her echo of words speaks in his minds hollow
Soon the decay will banish her to tumble
The bend of limbs absent flesh to move
The signs of sanity melt the madness of his face
This shining vigil remains on a promise of return
His decrepit chair and spinal pour becomes one
The morass of synapse dissolves her face.
Banished the last of a believed memory
Halloweens gestures come and go in spectres
Why do I remain? The question roars
Last command with thoughts to leave results
.....in a quiet elbows creak.
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