Let us rest not firmly
upon the mortal coil, for
such be the shattering remains
Instead, let us part
in somber reflection.
We raised the stakes and
razed the cities.
My love, I
am left with naught but weary eyes
and wild grief. My
heart, it hath not the tender flesh
nor the ruby wine, yet beat for you it ever does.
My fury, that with which
I burned and seared and boiled
bones and steel and glass and gold,
shall hold eternity. My time – is done.
Will you pray heavy upon my soul?
We made the intent
but how lovely the terror we sowed.
Flying swiftly for small hours,
we knew the untoward finality:
This is goodbye.