A Flower Upon My Grave
"You are…Gone…"
You were dead; my love.
You were so young; my love.
You were so strong; my love.
You were so beautiful; my love.
…You were dead; my love.
"K…oujaku…" Here I am. Here I am, again, my love. Here I am; beside your grave—they can never take your rose away. The golden crown of a once blue, blue sky began to leave the beautiful pastel palette of a scarlet rose's warm lips; a grown and delicious seville orange's faint dye and envied beauty of deep sea water's rosy coral. Do you remember…my love? We chose the starry dark sky as our silk blanket of India's wool and tulle. The wordless memoirs we wrote under the gaze of the diamonds of the night cannot leave my mind. I still, in my hours of a merciless and sad, sad despair, seek your healing warmth; your strong arms; our child~like games. Many, many daylight and moon's reign passed from the wildfire that cursed our love; the elders of our hometown raised their mourning pleas for me to return; to return to my own ashes of a broken fairytale. Yet…Here I am, again, again and again.
Cry, my heart, cry for my bitter, bitter loss. Try, try to show your pearlette smile for a fallen lover and a beautiful grand mother whose eyes were strained with flowing tears. My dried yet warm roseate lips pressed themselves against your name that I carved with shapeless stones and undying ebony ink upon the towering; grey and whiteness shaded piece of stone. You would not yearn for a curved art from the magical fingertips of a craftsman; after all. "M…y…love…You are still with me…"the voiceless voice that became a wandering; silver lined ghoul between the slumbering bodies of this land of peace; became vapor when my upper and bottom lips; parted away from each other; traveled along the initials that shone with the midnight black ink. A broken; bittersweet smile born upon my deranged lips when my creamy palm traveled amongst the brownish earth that became a part of your eternal beauty. See? I am still smiling; just…don't leave me…once more…o…ne…ga…i….
"…"a desire I had; childish perhaps the most naïve; yet the haunting screams of my bleeding heart would not leave my worn mind in an illusion of crafted peace. I wanted to…I wanted to…slumber beside your warm, warm body. So, so cold I am, Koujaku. Will you let me? A snow flaked cheek fell upon your sacred; god blessed golden brown soil; as gentle as a blue bird's feather. I have done nothing, right, Koujaku? Beneath this silk and beautiful earth of the creator's blessing; your boyish muscle adorned physique was resting. I was just resting upon your body. Nothing; nothing is wrong; I am not one to blame.
The peace, oh, the angel's gift I sought when my matured hazel eyes disappeared beneath my swaying lashes that married my snow fallen cheekbones with a restless fright inside my heart. I should not be afraid; I was with you. Yet—I could feel a silhouette hidden amongst the rose and fell of dead men and amidst the dark, dark clouds that frighten the emerald beauty of long and thick grass.
"Mister."
…Resembling an aqua; marine animal that was caught in the black, black vines of a fisher man's web that granted no, no escape for the enslaved fish; a breath became tangled inside my dry, dry throat when my whiteness hazed fingertips pierced themselves in depths of a soothing golden brown earth upon my lover's death bed. No! Don't…take me away…!
"My apologies but—"
A voice of a healer; the gentle whisper of a dawned wind reached my black, black ocean of bottomless well where I became drunk with liquor of dread and grief. The thick and long lashes fluttered when they reached the thin electric azure brows; the pleading amber gaze began to see shapeless blurs when black and scarlet flowers embellished glow of yellow hazed lantern swayed in silence; illuminating my dirtied cheeks and lips. Please…Please…Don't take me away from the embrace of my lover…my voiceless voice wished to reach the throne room of highest powers.
"—You need to leave."
