Pack up the sun from a warm summer day
Stifle the laughter of children playing
For the end of this, is the end of joys and pains
A defeat of the spirit to the law of flesh and man
There is nothing here to celebrate
A Pyrrhic victory
The blood of the soul drenches the tear soaked lands of disdain

Pack up the warm breeze while floating in the ocean
Stifle the joy of tears from a joke so funny you piss yourself
For the end of this, is the end of journey,
–as we walked hand in hand,
–through brother murdered,
–loss of wealth,
–loss of two children,
–joy of four children
There is nothing here to rejoice in
A sanguine defeat of the heart
It bleeds out in misery and tears, sorrowful and lost

I cry

Pack up the sweet encumbrance of your lover
Stifle their kisses and sweet nothings
For this is the end of tenderness, love, compassion
All the archangels share sorrow and the bread of life with you,
–though it feels empty, like a automatic working…
–but the heart always always beats on, always works, in all it’s automata
–(the blessing of god)
A lesson to behold in these shearing blades of discernment
Goddess sheds locks, moves you, as the piece to the next move
–in the game you must complete.
For none get to escape the completeness, even if incomplete

Pack up the boxes and move them to storage
Stifle love and tender glances, embraces
–the gigantic worms of earth shift tectonic plates beneath our feet,
–there is nothing to celebrate here,
–a maudlin recover,
–the mime of the spirit, finally escapes to a higher level,
–free of the law,
–free of doom,
—-spell doom my beauty
There is light, a grace. Our benevolence looks after us
Our joy has escaped, but will be snared anew.

Wipes tears and look within
For a new sun shines out radiantly after the supernova
And you get to start again