Tin God Prophecies

Tucked into another fitful night
-- with little sleep, if any--
closing my eyes to scratch at something
--Distant and complacent--
However, a vivid image appears
--a beautiful metaphor--
Our love at its most valiant of times
--now dwindling--

Your slender arm is snaking around me
--absorbing the blowing wind--
Hiding my frail body in this comfortable boy
--gently unwrapping trust--

How far comfort is from my mind
--years later--
when I unseal my first combat envelope
--letters dropping to the floor--
I snatch them up
--desperately--
Begin to read the lines
--holding my breath--

News of you pours into my eyes
--I'm so thirsty for your safety--
Reluctantly I watch
--as the words fall into place--
Frantic news of you cheating death
--or worse--
A failed attempt
--glistening angrily, mocking--

You have brought me to my knees
--many times before--
Through our tangled mess of a relationship
--I have endured many sorrows--
This time I fall to the floor
--not in love, nor in prayer--
but of the sheer inability to breath
--you've perished--

Trembling lips whisper "too late"
-- You're too late--
You have become something so lacking
--translucent--
Such a vacant avenue of memories
--unfolding every detail of our lost potential--

And for what?
--patriotism, duty, honor?--
Empty
--for what?--

I'd send this question out to you
--had I any faith, that you'd reply--


Holding my breath
--I wake up--
sputter cries of anguish
--empty--
you've become something so translucent

Now I have neglected dreams
--terrified of prophecies—
Kept myself deathly alert
--for the sake of false control—
I will check the mail everyday
--hopeful, anxious--
and open your letters
--with trembling and weak fingers--
read in your words
--faithfully—

your destiny will not fail us
--nigh--
your destiny will succeed us
--for what?--
You need not reply
--I know and believe--
It is for patriotism, duty and honor

You are a martyr
--more importantly--
You are Marine