A Tale of Love Now Cold and Forgotten
Questions below, yet the answers, untouchable above.
The bird knows, who sings at the door,
An obsessive combination of philosophy, trickery, and love,
with a heart as fragile as angels of the love affair lore.
Who was mad? As it was written, who knows?
As I slip by bayonets of the soul and the batty of man.
A baby picture fades as the cold wind blows.
Barefoot through memories, I tread where I can.
Consorting with Angels, I sought the divine,
as clothes piled up, unwashed, a cloak of regret,
I stumbled through courage that was no longer mine.
As a cockroach skittered where my shoes were set.
Earthworms wiggle in my ear and pull me below,
Doors to hell, doors to heaven, doors open and close,
to where the lament of learning begins to show,
to where Imagining, the beast of my memory goes.
I fly, I fly away, and yet still I stay,
Gone, but not gone because the past won’t flee,
God, while I was sleeping, showed me the way.
But the end came before and was just beginning in me.
For my love who wanted me once as a wife,
on the forgotten beach, where memory falls,
like waves, the cycle of pain, the theater of life,
who begs me not to inquire further calls
for the time of insanity, a funnel of ghosts,
Going, going, gone, a vanishing light,
A haunting chorus of forgotten hosts.
As sorrows persist in the endless night.
WoPoLi 
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