The Loss

Toduța Tudor Bogdan

O' Soul, lower thy eyes,

Bring me thy funereal kiss

That cold flame I've hunted through graves of longing.

Descend thy hands upon the flowers grown ancient,

Let them bleed their withered petals

Upon memories half-buried, half-beloved.

I lay thee upon the ruins of our love,

Bathed in the pale hush between night and forgetting.

The winds that stole thy laughter

Have sewn it deep in the flesh of night,

Whispering thy name unto the dawn

Of everlasting ache.

Thy beauty no jewel of mine,

But a gift once burning like frost

In the blood of roses.

Ice wept upon my palms, carved in grief.

I saw thee drift among the shade,

And could not touch thy spectral form.

Cruel fate, that thief of light

It has broken all that once breathed.

Never again shall I behold thee,

Unseen as the black sands that fall through dying fingers.

Thy loss haunts the gray tides,

Memories woven with hatred for the solitude left behind.

I would trade this shadowed soul

For one final breath of thy lips;

Cast aside this hollow husk

For a kiss lost to the grave.

I yearn for the warmth

That once trembled upon thy cheek.

I raised a blade of light

To steal the days drowned in sorrow.

Only in the rapture of that fire

Shall joy be born again.

Years have devoured pride;

Laughter has turned to vapor.

I drink the last cup of venom,

Dreaming through fevered dusk,

Among fields of dim blossoms

Under the raven's mute sky.

The rot within my heart rains grey,

The weight of thy absence has drowned all seas.

Thy cotton shroud, the wind I summon

Grant me the strength to face the first dawn.

Thy ancient desire ignites the fear men crave.

I have become what none dare to become for thee.

The fruit is poisoned wine;

The branches many, but broken.

I am brittle ash, awaiting the abyssal wind.

Our dreams lie dead; the wine turns to mud.

Thy waters spill across seas of blood,

Across oceans heavy with mourning.

Thy tears drown the deер,

And I await thy dance at dusk

With each dying breath.

O' passionate death release me.

O' Soul, lower thy eyes and steal the night.

The flower is shattered dust remains.

O' Soul, touch the emptiness that endures.

The blood is dry; the passion silent.

I descend with the night beyond the mountains,

To find thee trembling at the edge of dawn.

I'll cherish that dawn's brief beauty

Before embracing eternal sleep.

With open arms, I welcome loss

And drink the wine of freedom.

Farewell to life, to love, to pain

Grief shall not touch thee again.

The stillness of mourning enfolds thee

Like a pagan embrace.

No pain remains in this burningl;

Death has arrived

And still, I smolder.