by J.J. Netzach
I sometimes wonder... what do you remember?
Say, what should this child's heart feel?
These walls of time cringe and reel
Beneath the burden of strings
No longer attached.
Say, how does a worn soul heal?
Weathered, worn out sole to heel.
A Teutonic maelstrom springs
Forth through gates well thrashed.
Say, what will remain, come morn?
Roles apart, two lovers mourn.
Poles apart, morn tearfall brings
For twin souls mismatched.
Rise higher than you could with me,
But leave a little mark.
Face every challenge you may seek,
But, please, leave just a spark.
Sing to the lavenders in bloom;
Tiny paws trampling in grass.
Sing to a brighter sun by noon;
Our whole world then, holding hands.
Sing to the first sprouts flowering,
Flowers white of bird cherry.
Sing nothing of my slow drowning
Deep under Charon’s ferry.
Let remain just an ounce
Of us as one, now two apart.
Just one seed in the ground
Into where we, alone, depart.