my tears aren’t forced
they flow in that
dark tunnel that she
dreamed so long ago
she wasn’t ready
to take her first steps
I wasn’t ready to
take mine without her.
Little things bring her back
like empty bowls or the tower
of books she’s never going to read.
People have been calling this a
trauma, but they’ve forgotten the
loneliness of life’s journey. She dreamed
a tunnel and added bright lights
and dusted the floor with powdery snow
she traveled far yet I can
only see the trails of
milk puddling around the lost key that she
dropped under blankets
of memory and phrases of
I-promise and tomorrow. I’m growing up as
she falls down. She wasn’t
perfect but that’s why it
was so easy to love her.
My journey’s ongoing, and the
deep undercurrents of pain and
grief are pulling me through
that tunnel.
I’m rowing softly by,
quietly, quietly,
as she is laid to rest.
her memories swallow the emptiness
she is kneeling at the throne.
I follow slowly and leave my
tears for her to know that life’s
path isn’t paved in water but
with sorrow, with endings, and with lost
boats on turbid seas.

i.

Mine body is frail love
Mine spirit I feeleth soon might be called;
Back whence we cameth from, in the mansion and light of God.

ii.

So if mine essence leaveth
Meeteth me in ourn secret place;
Thou might not rememberest it, tis here thy family, amour', grace.

iii.

So mine queen Jane, O' mine dearest Jane
Do not shed none tear's, if tomorrow I'm not here;
Ourn amare is eternal, undying, no commercial nor rewinding.

iv.

Empress Jane, there shalt be a poem for thee
This is it, just in case, I goeth into eternity;
Loveth me, I'll loveth thee, forever we shalt loveth Jane, Queen.






©Bɾɑղժօղ NɑցӀҽվ
©EɑɾӀ յɑղҽ ղɑցӀҽվ ժҽժíςɑԵíօղ
©LօղҽŚօʍҽ ԹօҽԵ'Ś ԹօҽԵɾվ
©Kíղց ɑղժ զմҽҽղ ԹօҽԵɾվ