Red Eyed Roses

"Quis hic locus? Quae regio? Quae mundis plaga?" [What world is this? What kingdom? What shores of what world?] Lucius Annaeus Seneca Minor (4 B.C. - 65 A.D.)

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Non-death

Icy cold breath on the back of my neck
My skin shivers but I do not fear
Darkness surrounds my physical body
The cold cement my only friend
Slow, methodical tears fall from my eyes
In this world I am empty without you.

I sink into the dusty floor
My body numb from the silence
Your memory fades,
A pair of eyes floating in the shadows
A faceless name.

White light
Passes through the cracked door
Blinding my sight
Headlights in the road
Amber light surpasses the sound
The car buried deep in the field

Blank Spaces
Black Eternity engulfs my being
I reach out for your serenity,
But I cannot feel your touch
Lost forever in the mist
As I’m dragged away

Bittersweet Silence
I no longer hear your sound
Guilt finds its shame
The line between two worlds
Gets fuzzier every day

What divinity is here?
Caught amongst the dead,
And stuck with the living,
Am I not Fate’s marionette?
Or maybe I am Antigone,
A dark shadow cast upon the wall.

A future imposed upon the present,
That accident was none at all,
And alive you shall remain
Except the dead call out for you,
In a state of waking dream.