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“There at love’s bitter end when the deadened heart is done,
The moon it wanes with one last sigh and the silence breaks. It breathes, “The end.”
And Death it calls as the stone crow breaks. Streaks of blood malform its face.
Death becomes its withered eyes and the shadows whisper, “Lies.”
Now within the dying ground as I hear my maddened sound,
From the eaves the darkness seeps. It is there the shadows speak.
With outstretched hand, I call, I moan. My fingers graze Death’s withered hand,
“My love,” I gasp. Despair clamps down, yet all I hear are lies.
With words of love, you kiss my face. Your sodden tears they fall like rain.
With twisted smile or upturned frown, you walk away, my death unfurled,
And I regain my heart betwixt your love, my blood, the lies, the pain
Yet you see none, and there I lay remembering your lies.
Belittle were your words of love, despite the warmth within your touch
You made my body sing and cry, and smiling you would watch me writhe
Voiced with words and sweet caress, you impaled me with your flesh
Now, upon my death we part. Still, the shadows whisper, “Lies.”
Throwing back my naked breast, cold death’s grip, I welcome it.
And at last, with final breath I open up, invite him in.
Through me, riddles Death’s cold hand, as he rakes my skin from bone,
Death, in peace, at last I’ll sleep while the shadows whisper lies.
There at love’s bitter end when the deadened heart is done,
The moon it wanes with one last sigh and the silence breaks. It breathes, “The end.”
And Death it calls as the stone crow breaks. Streaks of blood malform my face.
Death becomes my withered eyes and the shadows whisper, “Lies.”
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