Father & Son

Somethings will never be.
The finality of life
crashing into death
and the painful beauty
of having to move.

There will never be
nor could there
exsist a picture perfect moment
to speak and say:
"I love you"
"Goodbye"

The time we have is the time we have,
beauty and pain,
wonder and hope
tragedy and life.

Sometimes there is a last hug.
Mostly the shades and whispers of night
as they pull
and grasp with slender tendrils
pulling time into the endless empty void.

Nothing is forever
but nothing was created to be.

Instead is hope and fear.
Hope for love.
Fear of love.
Hope of failure,
fear of success.
Such twisted views.

Love wins.
Endures the night.
Pierces the stone heart
and burns through the void.
Taking this pain
and telling you the words
I can never speak,
saying
"I love you."
thought I never really knew you.

Such impossible ways, means and hopes.
That this is not the end.
Fading flesh and broken hearts.
Idiosyncratic words refusing to rhyme,
hurting as they pass from lips to air
but hoping they can pull
and drain
years of frozen bile,
help pull out the pain
so I can begin to breath,
to laugh
to cry
and maybe just smile.