Knot The End

All so new; as it was all so perfect; as it was all so wild; as it was all so fragile; as it was all so tested; and as it all ended.

He finds himself in no man's land. A silk thread to keep him company. Fine, long, precious, priceless, knotted! Walking through time, marked by a weak gait, head hung; he knows what it means to be blind, deaf and dumb all at the same time. This damnation, feels like his reality. Time was presented to him; to contemplate, to introspect. How did his world change? Once a Duke, now a prisoner. Food turned to ash in his mouth, tears turned corrosive and time stood still as his duchess moved on. He was a cursed man.

His memories turned stronger. He refused to let them go. He wishes she could her his silent sighs; across worlds, through all the history, through all the time. Every knot, a gun shot through his heart; and every length, a balm to his wounds. Such perdition be in his fate, an eternal loop, a fate he brought upon himself. Yet, the silk string be his life, his breath, his soul, his existence, his purpose, his teacher, his comforter.

He learned, to love is to love is to love. To love is to trust. To love is not to conquer but to liberate. To love is to harbor, not to infiltrate. To love is to listen and not to talk. To love is to cry from your gut not your eyes.

He falls to his knees,
a battle-cry to the angels to set him free.
His valor, no more his strength,
his reckoning at arm's length.
All this time given to mend,
his breath fails as the lights leave his eyes.
One last gun shot trough his heart,
he sets the thread by a little plant.
He lays low and dies wise,
he was not meant to knot the end.