Sleeping

     He was a man.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Yet I felt as though I was losing my God, my faith in anything and everything.  Where he lay, inside his pine bed, also slept my desire.  Pieces of love had been returned to me by those had some to spare.  One such, the rose in my hand, is just a piece of me,that will die because it has been cut from its source of life.  He has been cut from his source, though some would beg to differ.  People have told me over the past week that he has gone to his creator, but he has been destroyed, so will his creator repair him?  I doubt it, because so many broken projects have been left unmended in the history of humanity.  And so, I will die, the rose will die, as he did.  One day, not too far off, I will lay with him again, whether I throw myself into the grave or lat his spirit encompass me on my journey into the dark.  With that thought the rose gently slid out of my hands, off the tips of my fingers.  A perfect landing placed it upon his door, giving a gentle knock as I prayed for admittance.  For that last moment, we were together again, living with one another, the last moment either of us could be alive ever again.

Reviews

[bluessadmood]

Oh dear thats not a strory ,poetry ,words like gold,i swear ,tender and so sweet
As though i was losing My God,my faith in anything and everything..
where he lay inside his bed also slept my desire
pieces of love returned to me by those who could spare some of it
like the rose in my hand ,it was a piece of me..
and so i will die ,the rose will die,and he did
one day,i lay with him again,wether in a grave or his soul embrace mine
through my journey to my darkness
the rose gently slipped out of my hands,perfect landing on his door
giving a gentle knock,i prayed admittance..
for the last moment we lay together,lived together..
the lat moment to be alive either of us..
God that was so sweet ,how you tell so loveliness ,those words were full of life
you were talking to me,i could hear you..
lovely write..