There was such life before
And now the heart from it has gone;
It sits barren and void.
I have tried to fill the spaces,
The places in between.
I hold it in my mind like a canvas
But the image is dull, lifeless.
I have no vision of the future.
I have no mark made for tomorrow.
There is your bed; clean and made
Like a bolt hole for refuge,
A trench for the battle.
But it fills with tears, night passing night,
And the stains never leave.
There are your loves; the small delights
I handle them with care, sacred relics,
And they are silent,
As they listen to me weep.
There is the night;
Longer now than ever,
A great darkness that has offered
Solace in silence,
Till every heartbeat pounds through me
And I am a never-ending drum.
The only sound
In an empty room.