Dead, Failing, Asleep
Question: How do we survive the knowledge of our own mortality and the frailty of the lives of those we care about?
THE TRUE JUDGE should create darkness.
Form the evil. It does not wash.
He blames the victim. Why?
There was never a pure me.
I was defiled and foul.
There is no one here, so it has always been.
Loved ones long to flee the centurion’s daughter.
May I borrow your maul?
I could crack it at one blow,
Split the happy-puppet.
The eyes cross and roll up.
For moments at a time, I will die.
I believe I will attend the wake.
Okay, we’re lousy. Each of us loses everyone.
Walk a graveyard. Endure the agony of isolation.
Even lovers will die alone.
Check for life. Blister the skin.
Keep this in mind: In my very mind we grieve and leave.
Who will love us, should fluid fill the body, pop the skin?
You cannot live when tomorrow cannot be guaranteed.
I confess an enduring weakness:
I cannot endure torture, or grief, or loss.
Why are we aware of this black stone?
Of raw beloved death?
Before me, at my feet
Beyond me, in the distance: I saw
The Buried. Mother gave them shelter.
I walked too, breathing, but…
Why knock yourself out describing a dream?
THE TRUE JUDGE should create darkness.
Form the evil. It does not wash.
He blames the victim. Why?
There was never a pure me.
I was defiled and foul.
There is no one here, so it has always been.
Loved ones long to flee the centurion’s daughter.
May I borrow your maul?
I could crack it at one blow,
Split the happy-puppet.
The eyes cross and roll up.
For moments at a time, I will die.
I believe I will attend the wake.
Okay, we’re lousy. Each of us loses everyone.
Walk a graveyard. Endure the agony of isolation.
Even lovers will die alone.
Check for life. Blister the skin.
Keep this in mind: In my very mind we grieve and leave.
Who will love us, should fluid fill the body, pop the skin?
You cannot live when tomorrow cannot be guaranteed.
I confess an enduring weakness:
I cannot endure torture, or grief, or loss.
Why are we aware of this black stone?
Of raw beloved death?
Before me, at my feet
Beyond me, in the distance: I saw
The Buried. Mother gave them shelter.
I walked too, breathing, but…
Why knock yourself out describing a dream?