I hold you like a prayer in temple walls;
it’s not enough--this faith is like a light
diminishing to dust. A terror calls
from deep within--all is not aright.
There is no Heaven here, the dimming day
bespeaks a solitude beyond us all
and, epic as we are, there is no way
to shield ourselves from sorrow when it falls.
Why did I love? There is a sadness here,
a silhouette of every mortal gasp.
Must I become subservient to fear?
It has become the only thing to grasp.
The years are turpentine, your colors stripped
away. You are a ghost. My heart is ripped.