Category: death

Death in the Snow

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In the snow, the seat is bare, except for you and a few tidy possessions.

You’ve been down this road before: broken and broke.

There’s nothing like poverty to make you feel like you’ve made the wrong choices. Yet, you are liberated now: free on this bench in the snow.

You think, “How beautiful the snow is as it falls. If I had a poet’s heart, and I was more familiar with words, I would articulate this scene with more purpose and beauty, but I cannot convey this; this is a photograph or a painting…“

You sit still in the snow, and you don’t notice the gun against your head until the jolt ends the falling snow for you.

Your last moments were broke and broken, beautiful and sad, as you thought of the falling snow.

What beauty in your death. Death on the bench in the snow as you sat full of a fading glow until the light turns to darkness.

Now you get the chance to do it all differently.

Blossom and Bone

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Under the soil;
You lay under the soil surrounded by the sounds of insects moving and water soaking into the soil.

Under the soil, there is a wooden box.
You lay in the wooden box with roses that once blossomed and bloomed, yet now the roses lay in petrified pieces upon your chest.

Under the soil alone:
You remain perfect in your chest of what once bloomed so beautiful and bright.

Under the soil, you are blossom and bone;
You remain silent and still as the stars and the moon sing their song to you.

From Dragons

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The burning embers of our love blow along the wind to run up and down our skin. We came from a place only the Dragons knew, yet it was a place of passionate fire.

We had it all until you tore a hole through my heart, and I smashed our love into shards of crystal.

We stand in the silent darkness waiting for the earthquake to crush what is left of our love and return it all to the dirt ash.

My chest aches and yours broke;
still, I wish we hadn’t fucked it all into pieces.

The Kyle

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The hills of green are visible far and wide, although, down here forever is blind.

The sky is shy today, as he decides that we all need a decent dose of grey without rain.

Winds flow through the castle which once housed our family and our loving hearts.

The sky knows what my heart feels, but he’s always been good at knowing my heart.

I travelled far and wide to try and escape the pain sitting heavily upon my heart as I miss you, yet I cannot keep going forever.

The sky tells the rain to hold off, and the rain orders the sky not to interfere; the sky and the rain grumble like a married couple in love.

Walking along the Kyle, I know the time is near; how wonderful it will be, after over one hundred years of your moods, you and I will meet again.

As the rain begins to fall, it seems the rain won the argument; perhaps I will win with you too.

Tangled in Treason

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You were always the kid pushing boundaries. At school, some said you were the “it” kid.

You started to change at fifteen; eccentric cool turned into conservative stoicism.

You receded into yourself, and I could not get in, although I tried; now you look through me, or not directly at me.

Where did you go?

I’ve asked myself this question so many times; each answer appears insufficient to me.

Then, we saw your face on the news one hot December morning; you got Tangled in Treason.

You had a beard, wore your hair long, and your eyes looked haunted.
Where did Matthew go?

You lost your uniqueness and that spark; you receded inside and then became something new.

Why did Matthew do that?

You had a vest strapped to your chest as you entered a town square. The explosion sent you to forever, or I know not where.

What will become of Matthew?

You killed yourself and a whole town square for them; cannon fodder for a lost cause.

Now, as the rain falls upon my face, I cry for you and your lost soul; it wasn’t worth all of that to die at fifteenth.

I see such a waste of humanity, and I remember so much horror when I think of you today.