Finding myself bereft

I ceased searching

Hungered in silence

Waited for naught

But a wan-faced psychopomp

To deliver me honest

Into a hell of my creation


You stood

In Charon’s stead

Hand extended

Belligerent, hopeful

Willing to forgive

Those sins

Which are rightfully mine

Those sins which honor



I do not understand you

Dear heart

For you are everything

And I nothing

Why do you stand

With your needle and thread

Tightening seams

That yawn in submission

To an indiscreet madness?

Why do you linger

When all others have strayed?

There is no diamond

In anthracite concealed

You have seen me

So I implore you turn away

Before failure revokes


That we know of love


This is fictional