Five Words

You should have kept me.
I was a monster, sure, but kind and true.
It’s been so long since I could see you.
So very, achingly long.
Our cabal sojourn into deception
It left nothing but scars.
All five of us, scarred.
And you fed the scars on poison in my absence.
But we find, in time, forgiveness is just like laughter.
The heart, full of light or black and dead,
knows when a wrong is being righted
in spite of separation and awkwardness.
The sunlight is worth the pain.
Like self-flagellation at times, and others to dry the fester,
Others still to merely feel again.
To feel anything at all other than emptiness.
Even if it’s far too much to take.
Especially if it’s far too much!
Let fire like the tears of GOD
deluge me and watch as I revel
in the stench of my own smoldering decay!
To feel!
To feel!
Every day, every year, every decade,
this words no longer apply to me.
To me they are all the same.
I am exempt the fallow of time
For I am detached, singular, without limitation.
Even in my cold slumber of apathy, however,
My love, my long lost sense of self,
The warm smile of your handsome face
haunts me as a ghoul of regret
where once I tried to die for you,
didn’t know what else to do,
ravaged my mercurial mind with every failure
every oversight
every nascent understanding of your heart.
When once, I tried to die for our eternity together.
Just to hold your face forever in my hand.
Just to touch your face.
I would discard immortality for one more moment in your warmth!
No heart booms or fulminates within me.
I am like marble.
An icy gargoyle carved in shame.
My perch and stance one of preparation,
ready to take wing should the flock forget their Shepherd!
I will always remember you.
My joy, my torment!
That you chose to ignore truth and abandon eternity with me
for your tryst with the sullen Alberta sunrise.
Time empties me. But I empty time of itself.
I have gained nothing that I would not burn in offering
For the passion, the lust, the touch, the fervor
of our mortal normalcy.
To merely “Die.”
Not all of God’s gifts are for all of His children;
Begotten or adopted brats alike.
The cold pains me only when it reminds me
the blaze in your eyes forever lost
were it not for my undying curse.
I and the two remaining giants awaken soon.
They will nourish the dawn of blood.
And I, dressed in living gold,
the fountain of the coming creation
will be beset by the birth pangs
of a world no one predicted.
The fountain from which fate itself
In my greatest era,
will draw its only drink from my frozen mouth!
My supple victories mean nothing,
Anguish is my forever
that only my memory of you will be with me in that hour.

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