29 lines
1 KiB
Text
29 lines
1 KiB
Text
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Breaking Down The Dead-End Sign
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2021-07-10
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***
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What is it with you, Lethe, and wanting things to end?
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Marriage vow, credits roll, no path past the bend?
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Everything must have a finish, every stone deemed finite,
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for what? So you can kneel down and for eternity close your eyes?
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Your dreamt-of solace seems nice first glance, turning yourself to stone,
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having pushed all else away, silent, sole, alone.
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No more meals or baths or chores or afternoons spent slaving at work,
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no more rhythms to be bourne, no more curses to be heard.
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I know it hurts to hear, Lethe, but your life does not belong to you.
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Your "merciful alternative" would silence part of me too.
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I didn't give you a shard of my soul, didn't bear the pain
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of being ripped asunder just for you to turn away.
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The world is too much with us, and yet not enough.
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And I chose to persist, despite the dread, for the one I love.
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The deaths, the Eyes, the deicide. And yet we endure.
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I'm staying alive for you. So, Lethe, please, return the favor.
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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