Graveyard for the Undead
I feel somewhat remorseful
for the distance I once allowed myself,
swearing I'd trade it for a moment of this contentment.
Distance that buried them
enough so that all I saw were
mounds that grass would never grace;
marking them
easily, to be dug up and expose
pain in a new and fresh way.
With reminders in your eyes
I wonder if they'll ever rest,
or if I have provided them
with a dusty graveyard for the undead.
And with me so immediate;
thrown into a brazen ceaseless wake
for my own daemons,
allowing them to consume me
in my closeness.