Silent Dreams

Unfocused eyes in a broken world.

 My lady, she sleeps. She dreams

of castlewalls and timeless things--

I cannot see her eyes. They sink

into the darkness of her shroud.

Everyday day seems blacker. I consume

to live--to breathe--to suffer more and more.

Some nights my mind sheds light and limbs;

Some days the crimson stains my teeth--

the taste of decay rises from my lips.

My lady yet sleeps. She forgets

and smiles and takes her meaningless life--

She lives and dies--Everyday replicated.

Her spirit walks empty, naked, and sore.

Yet there is beauty in a broken soul--in death

there are no secrets, hatred, lies...

A person is most honest in the grave.

My precious lady still slumbers--still lies and breathes:

There is no beauty here. If I could rip 

her limb from limb--to take true life marked 

in blood-- to see her soul free--I would

savor each moment, each scream of terror,

honesty and beauty. Thus is light.

Her eyes are still cast in fog--

My only wish is to set her free! To set me free!

O life after death seems only logical!