Poetry class #9

MORS, ILLIUS MEMORIA[1]

Just ten shallow breaths
Each one weaker than the last
One cry and then gone.

That last tiny breath
In gale force blew out my life
Blew out all my light

With both hands I took
The edge of darkness and then
Sat down in that shroud

Tortured by the light
All light now too much to bear
Dark became my life

Taurig[2] and troubled
Stormy-dark and sunless soul
Bereft of delight

Vacant and alone
Travail becomes memory
I am empty now

I am here but gone
In the wake I sleep and wake
Breathe then breathe then breathe


[1] DEATH, HIS MEMORY
[2] gloomy, mournful, cloudy

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