Friday, October 7, 2011

This one is not what it seems

Address to the Dead and Dying


How do you go from breath to breath
Stepping with them to your death
Choosing truth with grim, toothy maw
Over me, my brilliant smiling realm of free
Love and loving?
To God have I harkened and heard
The ever judging, crushing, whispered word:
My world would ill be kept in our eye
For my eye is mine and you do die quickly
With and without me.
The sweet is bittered and the wine has turned
And I am burned. I am burned. My heart has burned.
Each face is a broken tether as I, ripped into place,
Find as you are brought so horribly asunder,
I am free. Utterly and disconsolately free.

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