eulogy 4
He called himself a lion, but he was only a coward’s breath. He was a fragile boast that led me, slowly, toward my death.
I risked my life for you, the last gamble of a fool; I faced the iron mouth, believing love could break its rule.
I turned my back to the barrel’s cold and waiting vow, offered my back to the bullet meant for now. All I ever wanted — small enough for anyone to give— was your warm love to hold me, something soft to make me live.
Tell me—was it his cruelty that dug this empty ground, so you, the only light I had, could lay my body down?
And if you come again when the long shadows fall, bring petals with you; let them answer if I call. Set them on this narrow grave where silence guards my name. But leave my heart where they abandoned it—too ruined to reclaim. Take the shattered beating of it with you, if you must; I have no use for hope now, only dust.
And know this: though the world above me sleeps so deep, my only mercy is that I no longer weep. Down here, I feel no rage, no breath, no fleeting sweet relief. Only the soft, unending hush of grief. Time keeps moving forward, but I remain here.
Waiting for a love that died with me and will never reappear.
Chloe
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