When You're Gone...

Life's like a string-less guitar,

The final flicker of a falling star,

Like a toothless sabre on the prowl,

Or a tame house cat trying to “growl”.

When blocks of ice go up in flames,

Give up playing those treacherous games,

Friends turn foe and enemies grow,

Bleeding hearts surface and start to show.

End up winding on a road so straight,

An ant carrying around the worlds weight. 

 

A still-life canvas of a crimson hue,

Watch the jester dance and bid adieu. 

The deafening lull of the eternal requiem,

Corpses prancing and singing post mortem.

Her heart got mangled by his Hellenic scythe,

He showed her reality but she chose the myth.

Mourners pour in and kneel by the grave,

He fleets a glace and a casual wave.

She lies dead in her crate, her face alive still,

Unfulfilled desires rustle the tranquil.

 

Seasons changed, in summer it snowed,

Happened just as the Sibyl forebode.

Past turned to future and “us” to “me”,

With clipped feathers, she tried to fly free.

The shackles broken, the noose cut clean,

Yet everything was as if nothing had been.

“When you’re gone...” started her parting note,

Her hands shook and quivered, no more she wrote.

Then a silent tear rolled down her cheek,

For she knew the dead no longer speak.