The River of Time, Part II

I’ll leave a day before I have to

And will seem cold or even mean

When I hold out to you my hand to

Say good-bye; this time I will mean it;

/

From the museum you built around me

I cannot help but want to run:

I was born human, not an idol,

Frozen in place, forever young;

/

I will walk quicker than I need to,

I will go farther than I must,

And on the banks of a misty river

I’ll make of twigs a bony hut;

/

If on a dark night dies my bonfire,

My heart will set my flesh alight,

And smoke and fog will dance together,

And wood and bone will turn to dust;

/

You, who was once me, and who tried to

Protect from flames that born to burn,

To put on a pedestal a human, to keep

From leaving what was gone,

/

Don’t be afraid to live the moment

Of you and I becoming one

On the banks of a misty river

Under the early morning sun

The One, Who Laughs

In you, who never ceases to laugh,

I recognize the Goddess of Sorrow,

Having bowed at your feet a million times,

I’d know your gait among a million others;

/

Wherever you may go, like a shadow,

The shadow of the Goddess of Sorrow,

I follow, changing sides as the sun does,

Loosing you for a moment at noon;

/

I walk with you towards your lost altar,

Where memories of joy lie abandoned,

Dissected by your sharp nails, which, like mine,

Posses the power to drain warmth out of life;

/

You dance upon them – leaves of your autumn,

Trample on them like enemy armies,

Kneel before them, like gods of your fathers,

Trying to breathe life back into dust;

/

Your empty temple, Goddess of Sorrow,

Is built upon a solid foundation

Of loneliness, of fear, of obsession

With happiness, which simply can’t last;

/

All gods have fallen, temples have crumbled

All altars have been washed of delusions;

But not your altar, Goddess of Sorrow –

You will forever have cause to laugh