Ashes and Wine

sultry evening, late October

palms alive with golden leaves

waltzing breeze between our lips

slightly reddened, crimson sleeves

eyes once shone with an ocean’s depth

but laughed in stark depravity

heart strings pulled, a deathly grip,

twice the force of gravity

losing, reeling, sight of ourselves

two drunken fools in love tonight

hazy dreams of distant stars

hopes arisen at full height

but if the wine was never drunk

and if the rose had never bloomed,

could our future be preserved,

or would it, nonetheless, be doomed?

because you swore you’d never go,

but somehow left me anyway,

I could not withdraw from the game:

this awful game you tried to play

lonely midnight, late July

ashes scattered on a tomb

requiem, a mourning song

joyous days lost in the womb.