A Letter Home

November 22, 2010
Greyness in the disquiet,
sinking in, deeper and
deeper.
Plumetting down.
An empty elevator shaft,
and fall down...

Sonne la cloche.
five minus one,
a quarter past a
quarter till...
Writing home;
they'll never be the same.

Benissez l'ame.
Drift away in
the mist
through a wall-
impenetrable.
Red-stained page,
tear-smeared ink.

L'amour n'echoue jamais
Now a stone in the ground as
the last mem'ry.
"L'amour persevere toujours" is
etched into the surface but
she can't stop feeling so cold.

Si froid et seulement.
An empty heart on a
busy street.
One could not endure.

Juste elle et la lame
shining dimly by the moon,
steel holds no grip on life.
Nerves are quaking.
tears are falling.

Tant que vous tous les deux vivrez.
They'll open the mail at a
quarter past.
They'll see it scrawled in a
black pen:
"Je t'aime."
Then they'll blink when they read:
"Au revoir pour maintenant,
Je suis dans an meilleur endroit."

Plongement dans l'obscurite.
As it punctures the heart.

Tolls the bell,
bless the soul.
Love never fails.
So cold and alone,
just her and the blade,
(as long as you both shall live)
plunging into the dark.





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