Silent

It's march, but i found this in the archives and thought i'd post it up. It's quite explicit, I'm sure you folks can work it out quite easily.

 Out out, Christmas candle,

For that day, was yesterday,

And a dream was all his troubled mind endured,

Whilst needles plucked his puckered flesh

And breathing became a chore.

 

We stood beside him, gasping,

Singing out our own carol, why?

And guilt fell upon broken souls

As we wondered what we could have changed.

 

I washed his face for the third time this week

And held his moistened hands.

Dreaming David wept and slept,

And bled, wishing that dark angel had come

To forever be his only companion.

 

I awoke and I saw the angel of fever,

Holding him in her warm winged embrace,

And I could see him reach the summit of life.

And eyelids closed on Christmas Eve

Never again to open through will or strength.

 

I sat and tried to find a way in,

With salt black rivers down my chin,

And in his lowest moment he grinned

With dull eyes looking through me

To sparkling tinsel and flickering lights.

Reviews

[DarkAngelWriter]

Let me see if I got this.

You have a friend (friend? brother? boyfriend?) and he died on Christmas Eve?

If that's right, that sucks a*s :( But I love the poem.