The Vigil

Young and stupid was I,

Back then,

Friend of the wasted and carefree,

With a heart the size of the world,

And an ego bigger, but free

Was my spirit, to the world

And me.

Young and stupid was I.

But destiny led me to befriend,

The old man.

Old and wrinkled with sparkling eyes,

-the old man.

But sadness lingered deep & profound,

In those eyes.

Those eyes drew my curiosity,

Like a moth to fire,

Like a drunkard to alcohol

Like a stoner, to a joint.

My wife is dead and buried, said he

Stand vigil for me,

For she might feel lonely,

My health is weak, he said to me,

Sleeplessness might kill me,

Stand vigil for me.

The milk of human kindness was flowing free,

In the heart of me,

Yes said I, head held high

With no pause or hesitation

And so passed nights,

All of a week's worth,

But for all my goodwill, the lack of lights,

and the dearth

Of happiness and the like, began to

wean my heart of its goodness,

Of its worth.

The bushes that grew,

Near the grave, so plentiful

Its flowers, so colorful,

Even so, thorns on the bush, grew

Little swords, everywhere, anywhere.

The swords-effective, they drew

my blood, even as,

My rage - it grew

For young and stupid was I.

The old man came, that day

Like everyday.

These bushes, of yours, yelled I,

Are of hell & its flowers sore to the eye.

The old man's eyes watered and I asked why.

Those flowers, they are the apple of my eye

It will not understand- that heart of thy.

He said to me & the want of my,

Curiosity grew no bounds and I asked why.

Love is immortal,

You see,

Through the red of those flowers,

He said to me.

My heart beats, still,

For that red

That red, the color of her lips,

When she smiled.

That red- the tip of her nose,

When she was angry,

That red- the colour of her cheeks,

When she blushed.

That red- her face,

When she laughed

That red- of the earth

When she died

That red- of hers

Now forever lost to me.

Tears blew free,

Of his & mine

His of love

And mine of shame,

Those tears of his,

Unbound and free,

Made their way,

Down those cheeks of his,

Down to the earth,

To his lovers lifeless embrace.

The old man is long dead

And gone.

This is his story,

His song,

Long have I lived,

On the earth.

But the love to which the old man's heart gave birth,

Never have I seen

But seen have I,

Love lost & found

Love broken & made

Love unfound & unmade.

For all the love,

That lives under heavens sky,

Seems pale & worthless,

For seen have I,

The old man's eye,

The sadness so profound,

So deep.

His love, so eternal

So immortal.