My eyes have been seeking your presence, and it pains
That your images flicker in my consciousness.
And yet, though painful, I still linger in silence to recognize
Manifestations of your self amidst all the unbearable nothingness
That drowns me in anxiety. You are the reason of this angst,
You have given me reason to believe: you are reality on this the reflection of the river.
But by this propensity for dreams, lunacy has been my constant partner,
It has been hallowed in my thoughts as reality.
A witness to our love is this river,
I feel that many things have still been unsaid.
And yet, I can hope for nothing more,
For in this, the end has come.
What has been ceased from existing and
There is nothing more to look forward to.
I set my eyes below towards the sparkling gentleness of this river
Which has first been our future,
A picture of what we once were and what we, you and I, now are.
I exist no more, but am not yet dead.
Now, the downtrodden lies still on this in anticipation of the inevitable,
The inevitable that won’t be anticipated but preempted.
Disoriented people are now watching my every movement without
Looking into my eyes. But I see theirs as
I drown in their pity, fighting the tears from my eyes like the river.
The current below is so very enticing. What would it feel like against my pale skin?
My frail body is ready to give up. No, it has already given up and
Has died not so long ago when something that has never even started ended.
I look back at days gone by, and how my very existence was given meaning,
Like the life that is found beneath this glassy river,
When your hands were in mine, my skin against yours, your smile in my sight,
Your face my once glowing sun.
The time has come and is now pinging on my woe and misery.
Will my misery vanish as I subject myself to this my sacrifice for you?
Will I be able to preserve still the feelings I have for you as I slumber for all eternity?
Will you still even take notice of what I will do, or will you simply miss recognizing
Who I was and what I have become and will be?
Your gentle warmth I will no longer feel, but rather the embrace of the icy river.
As I plunge into this deep abyss of blue and silver, I will have but one thought:
That once in my entire life, you came my way, and when I met you, it was gently drizzling,
And that drizzle was but the fruit of this, once gentle and now my tomb, river.
