This day brings me closer
to the armor of my own demise.
It stands in wait of me
Like an empty exoskeleton
Patiently watching my future
Rush to its fulfilling purpose.
I embrace it… and I feel
Its cold steel flesh against my metal.
Tomorrow has no hope of more than this
My grand awakening,
Encased within the battlement shell
Outward peering to the glory of defeat.
I can remember the touch of it, the look of it
The sudden intimacy of the moment
When they realize… it is I who has survived.
Gently I have lain them down to Mother’s breast
For not with anger did this dance endure
But to ground with honor and faith… and love of country
That did not love me back to return
A calcium cast of joints and sinew attempting to renew
A charge to exist, to love and have children… and feed them.
But they are gone and I have outlived my circumstance
Like shadows on a thousand walls my story fades
Into this standing canister patiently waiting to become me...
I embrace it. I use my tears to wash it….
And though it verily lives, it does not know me yet.
It does not know itself apart from that which becomes it.
It has no heart. It has no soul, but mindful of its destiny
It has not weakened to consume this ether that pours
From unknown to unknown, in streaming colour.
And so I live, but the image of a life pouring
And drinking from this unto, unto that unto
At once, both approaching the moment and tasting also its emptiness.
If therefore be reprieve for me, It may very well this burning be
That the best of me lingered, remained, held on fast to nothingness.
Wherefore when the last is drawn… Love also entered in, and became me.