Manis Eterne

Another gray morning sans sunshine or the chirping of birds. I awaken, as I do every morning, to an empty spot beside me in my… our… bed. Sometimes I lie still in the dull dawn and I think I can vaguely smell the sweet scent of your hair. Perhaps this is a hallucinogenic after-effect carried over from my dreams, for every night it seems, I dream of you and us and the way things “were.” I listen to old DJ Mixes you and I used to love. Melodic vocal trance and every song is so sad and full of regret and sorrow and the sharp pain of yesterday pervades my quiet reverie. Every day it seems my memories of you fade like an image ingrained on an old black and white photograph exposed to the sun and rain. Exposed to ruin.

and only pain remains.

I see a beach and beyond the horizon I see gray water. I can hear the monotonous, eternal break of surf and the distant cadence of birds. I can feel the red sand underneath my feet and between my toes. The uncertain sun hides behind a heavy blanket of clouds and the land is cast in surreal shadows bathed in tears. Fleeting specters jump in and out of view retreating back to their damnable gateways… wormholes joining this land to the next. A chasm connecting the land of the living to the land of the dead. O’how I long to leap into the quiet nether realms and disappear and have all memory of my pitiful existence wiped away from existence as the balmy waters sweep away my fleeting words I dedicate to you carved in blood-red sand.

I can hear the whispering, all I need to do is stop and listen. All I need to do is press my ear against the stone wall and I hear the voices. I concentrate. Somewhere amidst the chaotic cacophony of wailing words here as I kneel before this wailing wall I can hear it so distinctly and crystal clear. It is undeniable. You. One voice stands out in the countless drone of melancholy echo. I can hear you sing me the sweet lullaby you used to sing when I was sick and you’d stand guard by my bed defending me from the forsaken spirits waiting in the blacker then black ready to claim me.

Now how I wish I could join their morbid, unholy revelry. Every time I shoot up. Every time I drive. Every time I die. All I need to do is simply let go.

And I want you not...
I need you not...
I'm dying...
Cause this is the saddest song I've got.