day of the dead

What force is this that hath called me forth
From deep earthen dreams of sleeping death
To once again blinded be in morning sun
And bleed at sweet air taken in labor’d breathe

What child hath wished me cold wakening
Upon these tired ancient vacant eyes
Bringing me some such namesake as love
My long stilled staid heart in relicary lies

How is’t that ye can call me here
Wishing me to walk in lockstep strides
Holding hands like newfound lovers
So as to your side all our old asides aside

It is as if I have been so forgot by you
Our yesterdays of tears in honey drown
Was it not in your love you left for another?
Was it not my love what brought me down?

So seek ye far for your thousand pleasures
As ever an eternal spring I wish for thee
Go my love and love your love live
As I would dream your freedom free

What force is this that hath called me forth
To mock me in my seclusive vigilance
What child seeks painting lover on antique lips
To abandon in sweet absent minded violence

All too often have I haunted this path
Too too soon will advancing time have its way
Our dance may seem now brave and strange
Yet I judge tomorrow by yesterday’s yesterday

My heart in such decay cannot endure
These agonies of affection and abuse
And I only have one role to play
Never having that which I fear to lose

So it is and so I go; gladly to return to hell
Love she hath no need of me;
I eschew my needs as well