All that’s left this maudlin shrine,
Fractured reflections I claim as mine.
Cursed, this purgatory in disbelief,
Silence only, no sanity, no peace.
Your soul soars high, I burn below.
The future stolen, the Reapers know!
Condemned them violently, unjust fate.
Fragile cage remains, ghosts inevitable escape.
Invoking true nemesis wheels of time
What would it take, blood, oil or dime?
Still encroaching the Gods embrace,
Tears of despondency endow this space.
Reluctant remembering to forget.
Your memories debt, clasped to my neck.
Echo’s, your voice inside my head,
You are gone, but it’s me who’s dead.
Burnt ashes of life scent my despair,
Universal truth, that swirls in the air.
Bless me with your existential grace,
A cold cup of coffee, heavily laced.
-Amy Elizabeth Whinn
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