My sweetest Eden,
In the soft yellow, and dim, moments,
When I loved you, and your fingers held my neck,
Like a desperate child, with his mother’s hand,
Beneath the stars, that flickered, like a jar of fireflies, far too mortal,
And far too meaningless,
I told you, “everything ends for a reason.”
And the creaking radio tower, above our heads, beeped and blinked,
Like a chorus of crickets,
And you told me you remembered when it began.
Your footprints left a rich impression below the swing set,
Where we waved at the sun, greeting the kind morning,
Weary of the world’s faults and murders,
But children, sordid, and sought,
To be the future of this dying land,
We knew nothing of the pains,
And we saw nothing in these plains, but the sugar-drowned dreams,
Of a galaxy where we were the kings and the queens,
And our laughter cut through the ashen winds, with a hope that shook the earth,
Beyond anything as worthless and alien as war.
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