I set fire to your image,
A simpering candle
Dissolving into sebaceous rain.
I slip into a ragged cape
Woven with the ghosts
Of our conjoined blood.
Arms palpitant in a blind wind,
I head off for your grave,
The rupture in our mission,
The rapacious hills of the dead.
Will I subsist in your absence,
In the cradle of my ineptitude?
Will the smoke darken
On reaching your immobile grin
A reaper to upend you in
The forgetful tides of the river Styx.
–
Life is not so simple
It happens with or without
Acknowledgment,
In the blink of an eye,
In the midst of bone-stripping fire.
It stops for no man whatever his value.
I pray and preach to an empty choir.
How your death sickens me,
Whittles away every vestige
Of my salvation and humanity.
*
Well I managed mysteriously to get a poem in!
mindlovemisery 