A shade of imprisonment
tempers the heart, forces the light
from a morning atom; from the
breaking of bread and pouring of wine,
until with the vanishing of stars all
life is sucked from my crucified frame.
So I am fractured of all love, and made
to regret what in the womb came unbidden.
For the loss of water dragged me to that
depth, where no light spews its idioms
on my mortal frame; for there I rot to my
most bleak and everlasting change.
A shade of uncertainty yellows the
skin and drives all madness from
the heart. Oh my distant woman, left
to walk alone and wonder what grief
will bring; I leave you trembling, I
leave you lost, alone and trembling.
Now the thinning of age as held its
promise, the memory is but a final blip,
calm is the breeze which punished my
hair, only the stars to clear away,
push the moon from my furious youth,
for the threat of life is darker now than winter.
The lanterns shine no-more, the day is done.
My posthumous hour is now upon me,
my friends they exist only in words,
an unsteady monument of my own making.
I composed and carved my thoughts from bone,
and in this earth their final song finds home.
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