Damage from a flood of forgotten memories,
Ever before me and above me,
But ignored for a sense of closure.
Grief just crept into
My dreams, letting all hope
Disintegrate before my eyes,
Ashes mocking my dreams of resurrection.
Death is death,
And that is that.
Could it be,
Despite all my religious treaties
Between now and then?
Grief crept in,
Like a spider through the cracks in my wall,
The tears in my ceiling
From a leak stopped years ago,
But a constant reminder of life’s imperfections.
My best friend died decades ago,
And ever since, I’ve had dreams of him being resurrected,
Yet totally oblivious to his death.
The rule in the dreams was
I could enjoy his friendship again,
But I could not tell him the truth of this being his second life.
Then, tonight, he died again (in a different way than before);
But this time, right in front of me,
As he cursed me to my face.
Suddenly his death is real,
The Reaper curses as he comforts me with dreams of ashes.
Tad “JTK.CA” NudistPoet
© Jonathan Tad Ketchen
Guelph, Ontario, Canada