2024-01-04

poetry/c/clocktower.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,52 @@
+Clocktower Blitz
+2022-04-06
+
+***
+
+Please, my love, come home unharmed.
+It's been almost a month since I
+found you injured, limping, on a farm
+half-familiar, glowing hearth.
+We've been here before- or, at least, I have,
+wandering in sprawling fields
+trying to find homebound path.
+
+Because isn't that
+what this is all about?
+Trying to find the way back home
+despite all those who've declared
+themselves roadblocks, obstacles.
+Each of us condemned to roam,
+sometimes aimless, usually on our own,
+no one to ask us how we fare.
+
+The bloodlust of my youth has faded away.
+I've grown sick of conflict, of battles, of war.
+How can anyone think cold-blooded murder holds glamour?
+I'm sick as an invalid
+two steps in the grave
+of every moment worrying if you're okay.
+
+"If there was a path
+out of this heartbreak
+without suffering any pain,
+believe me,
+Lethe,
+I'd take it in a single breath."
+
+I'd rather die
+than live a thousand lives
+safe but absent from your light.
+But there's nothing I can do
+as you ascend the campus clock tower
+with staff in hand,
+ready and prepared to make a last stand.
+"I need you to know I feel the same.
+Truth be told, I always have.
+I've got a bad limp, but if I get my way,
+you won't have to wait
+much longer."
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander