Who knew that this heart of mine,
Withered and wracked as it is,
Could still bleed streaming love?
With shallow gasps and stuttering gait,
But alive all the same
Who knew that she could wake,
Or would,
Submerged in viscous misery as she was?
We breach the choppy grey.
Has the Sun always shone so crimson?
Has the sky always stabbed so starkly;
Azure blade upon blade dashing across the waves.
We drift towards the horizon, my old friend and I,
Clinging to each other buoyed only by the air that we somehow manage to scramble from the world.
You don’t look so well.
Wispy - I can almost see the black behind you,
But with your ever-weakening grip dig into my hollow chest my friend;
Don’t let go.
I would not brave this world without you,
These malevolent waters, murky, rabid forces.
Land ahoy.
It hangs in the sky, nudged back and forth by wind, swinging from heaven-held noose,
Hold on to me; death comes and we must present ourselves
With bent back, on blackened knees;
Oh what a happy day indeed.
On soot-gilded cross I will preside
And rule over ever-shifting grey mass
And in its eyes I see a dead man with weeping chest -
Who is he?
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