Sunday, 13 October 2013

Waking to Grief

This stage I'm on cannot be mine
This is the script I never read
Each line a cascade fall of tears
Each verse a meld of others grief.

We wake within his hermit shell
Dusty with a life's veneer
Laid down in finest random parts
Built up lacquer layered deep.

We all need space to best remember
But also nest our shared support
In this firework box emotions
Spark ignite each other’s wicks.

Grief firebreaks are hard to dig
Cold calculated callous lines
Through vibrant memories
That hang

On every wall,
On every shelf,
On every peg.

We take the truth and justify
Twist fact with supposition hope
Attempt to blunt the razor edge
That cleaves right through our densest core

What we are.
Where we came from
Where we go.

Baled up in our now greatest loss
That we have seen in others eyes
Yet not believed a hurt so deep
Could tear our own soul so complete.

Nowhere to run.
Those arms
That would have us embraced
Are the ones with warmth no more

But with it, strengthen limbs
Thought fresh green weak
Supporting sideways to replace
The old ones lost above.

It's not our end we fear in tear.
It's times of youthful comfort lost
But our memories are unchanged.
They are today as they were before.

Weep not for those departed
But those they leave behind.
And so, my children, I dread must
Bestow your innocence with grief.

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