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Ashes to Ashes

Dust to Dust

And so the tail

Of another life lost.



A life lost to what?



Oh what dreams may come and fade away.

Or of the people, who seem never to stray,

    Now are just faint memories in an address book.

Or sun paled photos of years gone by,

    Reflecting a time you never thought would end.

    Or that those moments would never compare to anything

         else in your life.



Nothing would feel as BIG,BOLD or FILLING.





That reeling sense of smell, you had...

     When you meet that one special lover,

The one whom just struck you deaf, dumb and mute;

     The one who left you bumbling for words,

That breath taking figure that tore you up with just one look.



The one you, unfairly, compare everyone too.



That one lover you spent so much time dreaming about,

Writing about, being crazy over,

   Yet, never allowed reality to interrupt you.

The one who managed to take you hook, line, and sinker,

Plucked your brain right from your head,

And left your senses short circuting.



But the time has finally came to pass,

And the four winds of the earth

Have blown the vividness, and the hunger of them away.



Now when you see her,

The old clothes she wears, aren't attractive anymore.

The scents you remember are corroded or awashed.



The ache of a broken heart is gone,

Because you don't see her lips in a strangers face,

Or the curve of her hip on a friend.



All those little things,

Those things that cut like swords to remember,

Now, have no effect.



All those old familiars, are gone.

As for myself, I ask, what did I see?

That was so precious,

Something I had to know?

Because the image and voice before me,

Have muted into a background of a dull black and white world.



But mostly, NOW, there is no fear.

The fear of one smell and you'd be back there in her arms,

One look and you'd be lost in her again,

That power has dismantled too.



So when you see her,

Just remember that it was once real,

Even if it feels like she's a ghost beckoning you to stray.

There is no need to commit a death twice,

Time has a way of healing,

A cherished death it commits,

In a way, all to it's own.