The Prince of Pain

The gaping absence of what life was promised to be, fills my body with a depression that drags me down to my grave. Carrying all that’s left of you, I scrape my heavy self cross the stained glass of the Church windows, in which we wed.

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An empty womb, a bleeding heart, a bed burned inside a home that met its end. I long for the day where I too shall pass - only to touch that ungraspable dream - your lavender scented hair draped over fertile breasts, fresh field flowers filling the nursery that embraces our babe. A pasture ripe with well-fed sheep, and a world where we can survive.

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Take me, my love, and bring me far from this place.