right arm fast bending
long bow to masters keen sight
boar clan well fed

Light cannot and does not know who lit it or snuffed it out
Neither does it know if its light was used for good or evil
For shameless evil is more believed when seen by the blind
Whereas good hide in dark searched for by the sighted
No glory to be lit or snuffed, foolish to boast or despair
But in peace assured: grace suffices whether you burn or not
And there's no dark in good, and light's to judge the blind

Death is my own covetous possession,
A hand-me-down with the worn edges
Of a closed, burnished keepsake box.

Death is the memory of a tree-lined walk,
A daguerreotype, a trompe-l'oiel des bois,
Sight itself turned within, but without end,
A forest of unstirring eyelashes, like long uncut grass,

Death is the stillness of pewter leaves,
And sorrow is sadness in love with itself.

The mantis shrimp
Sees all that I never could.
My creator, ever frugal,
Gave me gifts
Of word and tongue
But only just this once,
Bits of light cowed by the sun.

I peer through the window,
Too short to see those
Violet peaks.

I brush past reality
Like the eyelash fluttering past
My cheek,
Never to really know.

A void where when your affection dwelled,
A gorge profound, where satisfaction withstood.
Presently repeats wait, murmurs of agony,
A heart uncontrolled, lost in the downpour.

I meander through days, a ghost's phantom,
Tormented by recollections, a weighty expense.
Your giggling, a tune, presently a lament,
Your touch, a glow, presently an unpleasant flood.

The world appears to be dim, absent any and all shade,
An infertile scene, where nothing is new.
Each stage a battle, a fatigued situation,
Lost in the obscurity, without your light.

The evenings are unending, loaded up with despair,
An unpleasant quiet, stunning.
Your nonappearance, a consistent, a significant burden,
Pushing down on me, constantly.

I long for your presence, your caring hug,
To experience your glow, to see your face.
Be that as it may, distance keeps us separated, a horrible declaration,
A partition, difficult to see.

I look for comfort, everywhere,
In any case, track down no solace, no harmony, no Danny.
The world appears to be chilly, a relentless machine,
Without your adoration, I'm lost, concealed.

I attempt to occupy myself, with books and craftsmanship,
However, nothing can make up for the shortcoming in my heart.
The hurt of yearning, a consistent aggravation,
A significant weight, that I can't maintain.

I miss your grin, your giggling, your mind,
The manner in which you caused me to feel so fit.
Your affection was a fortune, a valuable gift,
Presently lost everlastingly, an excruciating fracture.

I long to hold you, to feel your touch,
To realize that our adoration, won't ever be squashed.
Be that as it may, destiny has mediated, a brutal wind,
Leaving me broken, lost, and uncontrolled.

I look for replies, however see as none,
Lost in a maze, where trust has gone.
The aggravation of partition, a weighty burden,
A weight excessively weighty, to be conveyed abroad.

I attempt to continue on, yet it's difficult to do,
At the point when each memory, carries me to you.
The prospect of losing you, perpetually, is a trepidation,
That torment my fantasies, a large number of years.

I trust sometime in the future, we'll see as our way back,
To the adoration we once had, a lovely track.
Up to that point, I'll continue, with overwhelming sadness,
Expecting a future, where we won't ever part.

Thus, I stand by, anxiously,
For the day when our adoration will vanquish demise.
At the point when we'll be brought together, by and by,
What's more, our hearts will retouch, and our adoration will rule.