Awakened, he was, by the final sigh,
Pleading to the wind, as a miserable goodbye.
One lucid dream, transfers to the next realm,
And whatever love was taken
In her enclosed arms,
To that Heaven, beyond,
Where life shifts and stirs about
In the frozen open.
Death has a face for two kisses,
One for either hand, shielding the cheeks
In what crystal tears declined from her streaming eyes,
For his tongue to taste their current.
Newest kisses on her facade,
A blank one,
A white one,
And a one that demands the tears to be swallowed.
He had drained them to his stomach,
Embittered by their bitter taste,
Because, her death was the last tear he ever would know,
After a night in formless passion,
Upon sheets made of snow.
A dead woman is all to see,
One limp shell, loose in defeat.
And beside the throne of a lone god, she’ll take her seat,
In a blank Heaven,
After her death in a living Hell.
A defeated territory of nothing by way of life.
A failure upon the next one, in line for a world in strife,
He is a man of nothing new,
Except for the heart that aches with a wound.
He bleeds naked upon a golden shore,
With nothing left in his place to adore.