The call came in the early morn
As I was trying to raise my head,
Voice familiar, I thought,
But knew right away,
The words signaled ignominious end.

I often beg to know
My purpose,
Others transient in my life
All the while,
So out of control
Is the domain around me,
So pervasive is the need
To cope.

We are often drawn to others,
The reasons vary in every regard.
Rarely the associations become treasured,
More precious than life itself.
But we are, after all, human,
Synonymous with frailty
And miscalculation are we,
Thus our treasures
Are occasionally left in the sand,
The victims of tumult and wind,
And wildly sadistic seas.

Can you feel my loss;
So fresh are the gaping wounds,
Flesh laid bare with calculated thrust,
The product of conspiratorial plans.
Dreamlike was the mortal affair,
Beyond counterattack
And left for dead,
Drowning in this sanguine scene,
With message left unsaid.

I long for sympathetic notion,
But truth refutes the cause,
There is no longer sense
In pasting feathers to stem,
Or in parading before seminal friends,
Seeking laughter
Or adoring applause.

And so this passage comes to an end,
With loss lies the tragedy,
Battle fought not by the principal,
Rather, imposter,
Delighted by the travesty.
And so, comrade, I offer,
Although I know not where you’ll be,
Once found, you will see
In trusted memory,
Me entombed forevermore,
Deep within the trees.