The Lost Ones

Tonight I can write the lines of the lost.

Write, in vindication, "The night is raw
and numbingly arctic, and the stars
wail my disheartening verdict."

Reticence mirrors my abandoned soul.

Tonight I can write the lines of the lost.
I loved him, because he bravely conquered my heart.

Enamored by nights such as this, we were.
He would kiss me to love and to sleep
under the deathless sky.

I loved him, and his eyes screamed his love
for me.

Those eyes flooded with all wonders of heaven,
the secrets we whispered,
and the passions of music and art.

Tonight I can write the lines of the lost.
I am alone in the frigid air.
Demons torment my unprotected soul.

Their torturous accusations enter me.
These arms that hug my knees
are insufficient.
They do not shield me in the way
his gentle guarding limbs encircled me.

We are the same.
Creatures of despair.
Together we can survive. Severed-
our souls will die within the beat.

In the distance peals a howl.
I answer back in a parched cry.
My lungs also need him.
Not even the earth acknowledges me.

This willful chimera has mutated me into a freak
incapable of reason.
I no longer have eyes to see
nor ears to hear what is natural.

The same moon shines dormant and cold.
He is not here to bring it to life.
He is not here to bring me to life.

Intimacy is fatal but so if life.
Entrusting hearts thrive for the other,
and none else.

We are eachothers and none others.
He is as lost as I. Just as he was
before our shy eyes met, before our cold hands touched and turned warm,
before his body and mind wreathed mine.

I am his savior, and he is mine.
Sweeping eachother out of the excruciating pain
of existence.

Enamored by nights such as this, we were.
He would kiss me to love and to sleep
under the deathless sky.

My heart still beats; tis reason enough to believe.
Rooted in this familiar place, I will wait, until he comes again
to rescue me.