Oct 26

Going Alone

The mist is moving.
My legs walk through.
They disappear beneath me
and I become a phantom.
I stop to look over
my stiff shoulder.
I see the horizon in waves
darkening as I go further.
My hand is cold
as I move along.
It's the first thing that died
when I abandoned my life.
I lost my heart
in the snow.
I tried to find it but it's gone.
I can't weep because it's gone.
I lost my life
in the storm.
There's nothing here to keep me
and my hand beside me warm.
There's nothing left
to grasp onto.
Reaching through heavy mist,
I'm touching the reaper's cloak.
The sweetness
of a rotting world
rolls off of his tongue and onto
the waves of mist that I breathe.
With this hand
and this heart,
death has veiled my crown.
Forbid and forgive this body.
I have long
given into him.