By Tom Robert Roy
What lies beneath a broken dream? Or hope?
Or expectations shattered? Such strange debris,
Glimmering from skating close to stars,
Remains upon the ocean floor, now dark,
Still and cold, a pale memorial,
Nothing like the beast that cut the sea,
At home above the waves and facing sky.
Who, when sunk beneath the broken waves,
Would not claw to climb and breathe again?
To burn and beg with every shred of life?
Or thirst? A person dried and desperate,
Will use their final act of will to drink,
To quench the primal drive to live again.
What of a deeper pull? Old and raw?
It gives a purpose to the breath of life,
I could not let it go. Could anyone?
My love for you is part of me. My breath,
My food, my water, sleep, all of it –
This work to keep my damaged form alive –
It’s driven by my memory of you.
It doesn’t matter where I lie – the sky,
Or in a cavern deep beneath the salty blue –
A thousand years from now, I’ll love you still.
The stars themselves may tire out and fade,
Letting darkness bring forever night,
When nothing reigns supreme of void.
And would I live to see that ageless time,
I’ll not regret a moment spent with you:
The world, reflected in your eyes, was grace,
Bees were fuzzy, flying miracles,
Every color was a privilege,
Each grain of sand, a child of the stars.
My love immortal keeps me watching thus,
This heart, a marble monument to you,
And there, among the dying stars, a sun,
Keeping on the vigil’s steadfast glow
To shine upon this memory of you,
Until there’s nothing left that I can give,
But sandy bones and scattered stardust dreams.
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