30th of December
Survival requires falling out
Of unrequited love.
I live it this very moment.
My soul has drowned the heart
In an avalanche,
And I rediscover myself
Hidden amongst tombstones.
From love is borne all things,
My best poetry is washed away,
Having lived only a temporal existance
In letters never sent
And subsequently burned,
Borne of my love.
That love is dead
As i wanted myself to die, as i thought i must
To resolve my pain.
I applaud this death,
Give it a Viking's funeral,
And await it's ressurection
For another.
Yet...
This conviction doesn't last long.
My tears flow again.
