Death of a Friend

 

Whatever it is that is keeping you from me, 

I hope it is not pride. 

  You do not need to hide, 

   Or mask with me, 

   For I had long seen through such things    anyhow...

   And didn't that, you already know? 

Whatever it is, that is keeping you so far apart...

I hope it does not hate me. 

I hope it is not ambivalence. 

I hope it is not apathetic...

Because then 

I am Utterly Delusional 

  which would be no welcomed revelation. 

Whatever it is, 

  Whatever it is...

I hope it is the reason I suppose...

  As hard a truth that is to hold, 

   A reality set in both our worlds, 

    Feeling as forged as Stone...

But the Sword of Truth...

  Oh That Magical Might of 

    Heavens & Love alone

Nobility of intention, & Trust..

That Sword so Single...

  

Perhaps the only breaker of the Stone. 

(And perhaps yet again not.)

Whatever it is, that keeps you 

  I don't know why it has had me so lost

But I hope it is due not to...

  Your life being a mess or you...

   As it would mean the world, none of that, 

    if somehow then I can console you;

For what are friends for...

  And were we? 

Are we? Had we been? 

Nay, 

  I pray, 

It is for the reason I suppose, 

 

And none of these other clouds elusive in my vision

Whatever it is, 

  It oughtn't matter 

But it does not change 

  The duly unsaid. 

I just hope, Old Friend...

  I just hope it is not just me...

As I feel your distance like the only death, 

  That has ever taken a piece of me.