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Mar 2016
They say a picture is worth a thousand words.
Well, I don't have any good pictures of you.
And now my pen feels heavy,
and I'm trying very hard to make sure these words are written
In ink
Not blood
Because that's not the picture I want to paint.

I don't want to idolize you, to put you on some pedestal.
I don't want to diminish your value, either.
You were human.
We all are.

That's part of why this ***** so much. Mortality's a real *****.

I could wax poetic for as long as my constitution allowed and you still wouldn't be back.
That's the worst part about tragedy.
It's not that it hurts. It's not the void where someone's existence once was,
The tear in the world where there simply just isn't anymore.
It's not the heartache, the pained cries or
The river of tears so wide we can't just
Build a bridge and get over it.

It's that we have to.
It's that life goes on.

I always tell people to live in the moment instead of taking pictures, because memories last longer, and here I am, trying to paint a picture of the past.
Whoever said hindsight is 20/20 was full of **** because there's no way in hell that I can put a life into words, let alone merely a thousand.
I'm sorry.
I want to know what to say right now.
I want to have the right words for all of the unanswered questions.
I want to help.
I want to heal.

Right now I can't.
Right now I'm allowing myself to hurt.
We all should.
We all grieve in different ways so please forgive my self indulgence.

But everything great I've ever done I've written down and he was a great man so ******* I'm going to indulge.

The man had the heart of a lion.
He had the heart of a lion and the mane to match it.
He was brave. He left home to pursue his passions in foreign lands, and his courage echoes in all of us.
He was bright. Not only intelligent but a genuine source of warmth for people on their coldest days. There's a fire he started in all of us and while it may seem dim right now soon enough it will rekindle and grow.
He has lit an eternal vigil in all of us.
Burn not in solitude.

He was many things. What that was varies from person to person but it is in times of great duress that we truly realize how fragile life is. And how important it is to hold those you love close. To live life smiling and without regret. To forgive and let live, and above all else, to make each moment count.

To the un-daunting Dante,
Requiescat in pace.
Or raise whatever hell you'd like.
For all those who have lost and are lost as a result, let the light of the lost guide you.
Sam Ciel
Written by
Sam Ciel  Los Angeles, California
(Los Angeles, California)   
383
 
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