The Gift
What have you left me, love?
A tear that flows through time-
To bathe the last of men...
That tumbles as a massive
Waterfall- to quench the embers
Of a passioned heart
That soaks the final breath
Without remorse- to drench a flaming
Fire (and yet, my soul perceived my
Body lived- respired for you alone)
For all we may have been, and are,
And were; I've nothing left... stripped
Of fine veneer, except your carefully
Chosen valued gift,
Alas! contained within an oaken box-
Fluid in its movement, a rolling
Tombstone, with heft enough to drown
An endless love
