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Mile Markers

Thursday, January 7, 2021

Signpost | A Poem by KJH Cardinalis

 


He sleeps.
It isn't air he breathes,
Not in this cursed place,
But me,
Crashing in like waves on his beach.
He tells me to avoid the drifting lights
He says they are the remnants
Of lost souls,

But isn't that what he is?

I have flesh
But I feel soul-less
They say I lost my memories,
Like that was some kind of punishment;
Strange—
Because he is the fount of all things.
And before him,
There was nothing.

Now the dust that is me clings
To the fraying tapestry
Of his wasted dreams.
I am the ghost, not he,
Pulled along on his wake,
Feeding on his shadow.
That unlived life seems like it was meant
For him and me.

But lately
I've come to realize
Death is but a crossroads,
And I am but a signpost on his way.
 

~~*~~