(Dedicated to my mentors & friends Les Hill & John Hickey)
Lament Fallen Heroes to Jilt Death’s Haul
Whatever the reason that fate is citing…
Whatever its wisdom; it carries no heft.
Whatever is meant to be learned from his dying now falls upon the deaf.
Why do these damned stars still twinkle?
Why does the man in the moon wear that smile?
Why does the grass grow slow and steady as we grieve him all the while?
Cover the mirrors with coal draping.
Cover your eyes now else lose them to grief.
Cover your ears so as not to hear that the end of his suffering’s a relief.
Leave us to our mourning black.
Leave your heavy hearts at the door.
Leave us to fast & stay well out of sight…just in case he visits once more.
How dare the world keep spinning!
How dare they walk without aim in the street!
How dare Life go on as though nothing has changed when our hero now lies at our feet!
Feel his loss & all its weight.
Feel the thickness of tangible air.
Feel a crack strike through the Earth. Feel the empty cavern he’s left there.
Jam the blade through all our hearts!
Jam pack our mortal wounds with salt!
Jam every jewel & beautiful thing in the deepest darkest vault!
Do it now while we stand planted in shock.
Do it now before we notice your presence here.
Do it quickly for when we wake from shock our wails will shred & sear.
Have all the things he left behind.
Have all of his worldly possessions.
Have everything but what he said & shared for you’ll never hear more valued lessons.
For no one is able to hear it now while our hearts are caught in vacuums.
For he is gone & his absence has blackened our sight with an enduring night that looms.
He’ll forgive us our indulgence in tears for a time but he bids us be gone from his grave.
He’ll say “throw this grief over your shoulders & stand…walk on, live Life, be brave”.
Our fallen hero expects our laughter & wouldn’t approve that we tend to wallow.
Our mentor’s vacancy, though, is too tough a pill for tear choked throats to swallow.