I.
I used to speak the language of
The swirling trail of stars above
That gifted the river a silver glint
And blessed the creeping watermint

I used to speak the language of
The softly weeping turtle-dove
Whose claws once held an olive leaf
Whose wings caught currents of belief

I used to speak the language of
All the things I used to love
I swam inside my mossy brook
I gave back all the things I took

I used to speak the language of
…Something, but I don’t know what

II.

Now emptiness grows like the ancient oak
That used to scream in the wind and sway
Until its moonsilver branches broke
Releasing icy sheets of rain
The shards stabbed through my tattered cloak
And so I penned my soul away

Emptiness runs like the babbling creek
That let its waters swell with pride
Until its fish washed into the sea
And shriveled in the salty tide
The hallowed lands of fantasy
Held their rotten guts inside

III.

Now lapping waves leave stains of red
Upon the weary riverbed
Which has seen peace as well as war:
Life meets death on this old shore

And on this shore my flowers grow
The sand gives rise to mistletoe
The poppies stare across the field
At your intentions, all revealed

My dreams were fed on wild grass
And now they smell like blood and brass
And your shining golden teeth
And the smog that forms my wreath
You wove a pretty string of lies
The stars spelled out a dark demise
I kept your string after you fell
I’ll carry it with me into hell

Bright and early, dark and dead
We marinate in words unsaid
And cast our eyes toward the sun
That burns like a smoking gun
And rises slowly in the west
Hanging, an unwanted guest
Whisper softly, still my heart
As we descend through the dark

Here, the oaks can hardly breathe
The ancient sharks are out of teeth
The old poets, out of lines
The runaways, out of time
The middle of nowhere, out of reach
Black trains cut through, their wailing screech
Replacing the words that I once knew
This language dies with me and you