Lament

Why do I keep giving?
Why do I remain, still, in this starving place, barren of life?
Still. I am still. 

Death will come. Soon. 

I am certain of it. I am too weary.
I have guarded this gate of life’s love for far too long.
If you had done the same, then you, too, might crave the cold embrace of death, 
for to love is to die.
I died, every time,
boiling, aching moments,
waiting, in futile hope that you would only remember my heart.
For a moment? Or a day? It seemed anything would be enough.
Heart not pierced by blade, not ceasing its beat through fault or ill.
No, I die at the stroke of your gaze, by garbage words that flow from your lips. 

Death is coming soon. 
Ripped, from thought and breath,
a swift moment; silence, and then darkness. 

Of bitter and complete robbery, there is none greater than losing the way to the end itself! 
Torn from hope of rest amidst relentless torment,
Trapped between the soil and the sky, engraved, 
With no sliver of light left to guide me,
No ray or beam left to warm my soul!  

To die, 
To die!

Apparently too soon to die. 

A rift in the darkness awakens me.
weakly glowing; my heart flickers awake once again.
A lone ember burns steady, deep beneath the sorrowful ice in which I was slave.
I am risen, phoenix from the ashes of my grave. 
Higher, broken sarcophagus behind, from my weakness I crawl,
mounting my wings, sealing my wounds with wind beneath my feet;
soaring I climb, no mountain too bold for this heart borne by love. 

Now I cannot die. I could not ever die. 

Yes, I am breathing.
Deeply, with each relieving inhale and sigh 
I find my mind again, there, amongst silken clouds. 
By accident or intent but through no act of my own I am given 
a word in my heart, spoken or written,
or perhaps carved is a better word because it hurt, but it is clear.
A word I cannot pronounce, like a breath of wind, but whose meaning is clear.

It is not without suffering. 

A reflection, briefly glanced my blessed life. 
A reminder, that without pain there is no peace.
The truth: without agony there could be no life. 

But I had forgotten that there will always be beauty here.