Wednesday, June 22, 2011

in the end

there is a loss that pulls at the heart -

an echoing of memories not made;
commonalities never to be discovered;
paths that will no longer be crossed.

it is a slow death -
the final breath of a candle's flame:
shimmering in a moment from light to dark,
till nothing remains but ash and smoke.
the lingering is the worst.
an empty pain of the might-have-been;
hands pressed against glass
looking within - ever without.

ties that bind are severed by
ragged edges of promises not kept.
in the end, only
vestiges of brilliance within the darkening shadows

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