Dead Roses (a poem) 09/22/08

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Dead Roses

Alas, again the sun falls down.Me the victim of another passing daywithout you,without your softness.What was your name?Minute hands seen calender yearsand all memories slip awayinto darkness eternal.The tormented emptinesswhich is my bodystill roaming, trapped in life.

Slow heavy footsteps tread.Perseverance through hopeor deliriumthat someday, someday you will return.Here I stand with weeping eyesamong the multitudesof stillborn roses.My home.My family.

All I know or can piece togetheris the certaintythat your farewell was also mine.Defined by you. Defined by me.From such a simple yet deadly word,all that was has been painted no more.Sad. So very sad.

The moonless night now calls,pulling me into the void,and the century long hours ahead.Already I curse my forthcoming dreams.You, I think you, still appearing.Name and face no more.No happiness. No feelings.A fuzzy image only,bringing with it,pain and anguishof silentbeyond words consequence.

The sun will eventually rise tomorrow.You, the consort in someone's arms,will wake to the dawnand say good morning to a loveless nobodywho makes you moan.Me-I will be standingamong my familyof lifeless roseswhich make me cry.Watery eyed vision seeingjust how equally miserablewe truly are.

-Randy