Mark Li

2023-05-29

at noon,
head under the water,
waves upon waves of
white wash down the drifting
body of the feminine in a white dress,
the chilling waters of marine fade out the searing
radiation of the mid-day solar,
the hope,
the warmth,
the liveliness that turned his back towards you,
and the last thread of fine silk which soul
you desperately try to hold onto
finally slips,
and the dark abyss of the dead unknown drags you in,
the solitude,
the tranquil calm,
where no sound shall ever harm you,
where no more laughter of them two,
no more silvery linings of their bond and destiny,
so bright,
so rigid that it cuts you piece by piece,
no more opportunities,
no more false hopes that only lead to dread and vain.
All silence, all cold, all lifeless, all alone,
only the pitch black abyss embracing in the whole of me,
sealing in my sorry fate that is to come, yet
sooner, for it is my sole freedom.
I cannot make him turn to me,
I cannot rewrite the stars, but
here, in the brightest warmest instance of the whole year,
has yet to lift the bleakest of mid-winters that shreds my heart,
I can hereby cut the endless sufferings that is to come, where
here, as my body drifts away in the waves,
had my soul return to the heavens with a thousand others,
where I can finally close my eyes,
rest my ears to this hammering of steel that forges their relationship.
I fear not,
regret not,
as it is my destin
-y that I now choose,
for this is my destin
-ation.