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.