Emma

for a father of the bravest girl I know.

 

When it becomes our worst fear

Our most inevitable enemy

What are we left with?

Through the rise and the fall

Comes the core of truth:

Fate has an end,

And it ends with acceptance

 

The strength compacted, your withered bones

Tired eyes, braced compassion lies in the abode

Of a stranger you knew none other than death

Corrupting a misguided figure

A conscience of self that cannot be contained

Bloating, then deflating, as it wilts away

In the likelihood of your two-timed dream

The clarity, uncertain, but the heart, made of stone

And sometimes we exhale the stress, form of water

In tears that ricochet back into our eyes

As if time were rewinding, only to play over again

And run through the course of tragedy once more

 

Overlooking the thesis behind our madness

We strain to feel the loss of character

As if it has sunk into the back of our hearts

Untouchable, but certainly existent

The Wednesday it all fell apart

Is the day in which we unite with the others

Who have suffered as we tend to tonight

 

In a twilight zone, our state of mind, glum, but reassured

An apostle to the great dance of death

As it twirls around our arteries,

The blood flow never sheds in those who lack a pulse

What is acceptance, anyhow?

How does one wrap the mind around demise?

For now we sit, unaware of why guilt runs red

Unsure as to why we couldn’t love when it was so

But in the time it takes the pick the flower

Is the time we waste disregarding the beauty in its stem

Reviews

This is really great.
I love Emma. I want to know how she is.