ant phenomenon
obsessive circle exhausts
their sad death spiral
So if this be the last song I sing,
Let it be more beautiful and haunting
Than anything I have performed on this earth before.
Let the open night echo my words
In pity
For no one will ever respond anymore.
Let my unanswered call
Coil the chain around my neck and restrain me to this branch
As I break the silence of my lonely demise.
I sing, not to be heard,
But to remind myself that I am it:
This is the end.
Hear the echo. Isn’t it beautiful?
To hear the voice of death.
Perhaps it sounds familiar; like the voice of a friend…
How many songs, howls and cries have you heard,
Unaware that there will never be another one like it again?
I am alone in a world filled with life.
Life that is collapsing in on itself.
I was born dead.
But at least then I was not alone.
Now, I sing with the diminishing hope that someone will answer.
But I know Death will sooner reach me.
And when that happens
I will be free.
Im in that dark place in my feeling's in head again.
I see red and black.
I don't won't to be here.
I'm in a room by myself.
I just want to grow wings in fly.
How i get here you ask.
Helping and thinking about everybody but myself.
When will I learn.
And the end of it all I'm only one who has my back besides God.
The monster in my head says It will be over soon.
I believe it and i can feel it
I know what's next the fake caring and fake tears
F#ck that and f#ck them to.
You did this to me.
I didnt just do this to myself.
We all played apart in laying me to rest.
You didn't see the pain hurt I beared and kept to myself
because I didn't want to seem weak or embarrass myself. You hurt me. As I did myself.
Thank God I won't let anyone of you ever hurt me again. Sault you monsters in my head and in my face.
Death his here.I smiled when I heard the loud boom.
the blue dress she wore
the blue words she swore
the blue tears she tore
the blue baby she bore
The purple cat hides
Under the dark rainbow bridge
Looking for color
Good night, old friend.
Hush and sleep.
I’m here as long as we can pretend.
Even after you leave.
If pain is a gateway to the soul,
then my dreams deem your words the key to such a portal
I just can’t tear my eyes away
your blunt nails puncturing skin, their purpose ugly lines
If I could I would rasp a scripted farewell
envelop the spirits you trapped here frame to frame
but the jeers swimming in your Cheshire smile bleed a crimson too real
maybe I should rejoice, this house now a home – not a belladonna field.
But it never will be unlike a cage
twenty years, two decades, one fear, no apology
a few tears won’t erase the scars on her arms
you the forefront, I the ignorant, and she the child in Omelas
I’m terrified I’m grieving a vile sadist
the people surrounding me either love or hate, curse or forgive,
they don’t understand what it’s like
to miss someone so soul-crushingly cruel.
Today the silence rings in my head
She is dead
Never to return
Her mother won’t get to say goodbye, only to cry when her name is said.
She is dead.
Never to walk the land
Her father will never be allowed to hold her hand, only to wish he had told her he loved her more.
She is dead.
Gone now and forever more.
You know, I've been keeping count.
Of the years,
of the friends.
Those gained and lost,
the memories and the cost.
I'm not sure which
has topped the weight class -
the good, the laughs and the light,
or the pain, the loss and that sight.
Of the headstones,
the folded flags;
the mothers' cries
and brothers' eyes.
I know the count of them all.
Today a year goes to rest,
and a new cycle begins.
I beg of Life a reprieve,
a chance less to grieve.
I know not what to offer,
what you would take in trade -
be it a life, or a soul,
part of me or the whole.
Whatever it may be,
however large the demand;
take off this accursed gyve,
and leave them alive.
Thy young maiden,
Peck her Lily flower a shake.
A brittle sound of break,
Sobbing till tears make.
Bare feet on wet grass.
Alas, her life, soon ‘twill pass.
My footsteps changed and there upon stood this wide ostensibly simple wooden door which laid open such that I could see the comparatively dim candle lights on the alter.
With my every heart beating sound, I approached cautiously with a rather uncertain foot step towards that alter.
I could not but hold back the feeling of an overwhelming silence lingering within my thoughts.
Before that alter and underneath the shadow of the dancing candle light, this of ours laid there, lifeless; and along with them, had taken away all my strength.
“I don’t believe in love
I don’t believe every single thing about love
and it’s more pleasurable for me to sit on a bench and watch people pass by each other-
sometimes accidentally brushing their hands and elbows
but when my eyes landed on you, I knew right there and then, I want you
I want to be locked in between your arms and feel your warmth
I want to wake up every morning seeing your face and feeling your breath against my skin
as I brush my fingertips against your hair while I stare at your eyes
I simply want to experience everything with you because with you, everything is perfect
everything is surreal and unimaginable than it ever was
I want to breathe a breath of relief and be constantly in love with you
because you are my home-
a home I never expected to be a person,
a home I never expected to be you”
I whispered as I watch you rest
dressed in white, handsome as ever
closed eyes, smiling but not breathing
sleeping but not waking up
laying down peacefully
in a bed that’s too small for two people
a bed where only you can lay six feet under
a bed where your body will rest
a bed where you call your coffin
On the hill, a mother
is desperate to nurse babies
who have gone still and silent,
with milk they'll never take
She knows they are not sleeping
but cannot bear to leave them,
so licks their tiny faces,
that they might come awake
She thinks if she can warm them,
then Winter will not want them
and Spring will find them happy
and hale, and furred, and free
As sorrow overwhelms her,
she curls herself around them,
soon dreaming in the way of
all creatures such as she
of fish in rippling water,
of game and earth. Of watching
her mate at play in powder,
unmindful of the chill
And when the Winter claims her,
she's chasing stars with children,
reborn among the flowers
that bloom upon the hill
I'm still a captive of memory.
It's like I am re-reading an ancient diary.
That decade-old loss still haunts me,
in my dream every night I see
that I am losing thee.
But you have already gone
to the unknown.
And I'm still here, can't flee.
Your absence still hurt me.
Your love is still as fresh as a new day,
still as firm as the Sun.
I am nourishing it still,
I will die with it may!
I can't convey, I can't say.
The only thing I can do is,
I can write with my whole heart,
that's my way
to continue this life of dismay.
No new wound can ever hurt me,
as your absence gnaw me.
I don't know when this nightmare will stop chasing me!
When I will stop seeing that,
I am getting back you every night in my dream and losing thee!
I'm still a captive of my old favorite memory.
Which I am re-reading,
into which I'm re-living,
like a drunk, still addicted to thee.
Don't know when I can move on
when I will be succeeded to flee!
Still a captive of your memory.
I will remember you,
but not like this.
You lying alone, with only
the ventilator for company;
searching for air where there is none;
looking for a face, a hand to hold,
a memory--something to cling to
through this darkness, even a
goodbye. No!
I will remember you
in the early morning
when I feed the birds you loved.
I will remember you
when I walk alone in the woods
we once walked together.
I will remember you
in the evening as I search
for a glimpse of you among the stars.
I will think of you as young
and strong--fearless! When
each sunrise was a promise of many.
I will think of your laughter, your tears,
your playfulness, your strong will, our
moments of quietness together. All
the ways you touched my heart,
I will remember you.
My son David died last year on my Grandson's 12th birthday
Now my HEART is broken tears are never far away
I cannot understand it when I am still alive
Why does God take my dear son at the age of 55
My son was handsome before he became ill
He was emaciated. a very bitter pill
I still saw the GREEN eyed handsome man with DARK HAIR
And his BEAUTIFUL soul and trusting stare
We often sat in SILENCE there was no need for more
Actions speak louder than words with someone you adore
David became BREATHLESS, gasping for breath
He and I did not need words we knew he was near death
I could not bear to lose him it was something to dread
He would no longer be attached to me by that umbilical THREAD
Just after Christmas, we had a call to say the inevitable had happened
My son had passed away
The pit I fell into was FATHOMLESS and deep
I could not find solace, comfort or sleep
I feel David's presence every second of each day
He has found peace, at last, I no longer hope and pray
I know the BIRDS will be singing when I meet my son again
We will be united in a place where we will remain
Amen
4 March 2020
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