A small pool of light,
wavering in hues
of gold and sanguine,
emits from a solar teardrop
contained in the lantern I carry
with hands trembling anxiously
as I sit on the steps of our home,
awaiting your return.
Forgetting that you have
long since departed,
I anticipate your
sauntering silhouette,
outlined by twilight's
enigmatic backdrop,
arriving from another day
amongst the ranks
of mundane men.
I dream of once again gazing
into the eyes,
reminiscent of a sea
forever undulating in waves
of green and blue,
that pierce my soul
with their vivacity.
While I wait to be enveloped
in your cordial embrace,
it is with consternation
that I find your limbs
inert and coldly forlorn,
and only then do I realize
that my arms encircle
your tombstone instead.
By my feet the lantern lies,
devoid of its sole flame,
which glistened phosphorescently
in the surrounding obscurity,
extinguished by liquid laments
that descend from my eyes
and blur my vision
from the epitaph
inscribed before
my mournful countenance.