Tag: Death

With ghostlike steps

The unforgiving light of morning

Pours out, grief suspended , unended

Stopping the illusion

That anything can ever be okay.

Ergo I lean in

Strain my ear but

I can only hear

one heartbeat

Faith, belief, forever

are only words I pencil in,

Grasping to my chest

My book of lamentation.

 

For littered among Christmas debris

I search the fragile memories

You said that freedom lies in solitude

The song of angels now stilled

I strain to hear the trill of your faint goodbye.

Art: Florence Blanchot