Dark have been my nights of late, my name inscribed in

Sandstone, no more than whirling on a lake of tears

The rock sharpens the blade, the boat cuts through

the sickening Sea of fate. Dark has been my thought and my fear

Jaws of ice cutting through my deepest being. Laughing.

Crying. Shouting. Gargling the secretion of life.

Thus he went, smiling farewell, we’ll see each-other soon, and

Slept under the knife. I never told him how foolish it was

That there’s no certitude. Solitude came, hours passed, and then the
Shiver. It brought him back, struggling for air, spitting, coughing

Despair. Then the words came through. I’m cold. I’m here, I told him

Everything will be fine now. And in my thought, I love you so, so much Dad

I won’t let go. He knew, I know it in my heart he knew. I won’t let go, he won’t be

Gone until it’s



3 thoughts on “Sandstone

  1. I felt suddenly frightened when I read this poem last night. For a second I thought smth unavoidable happened. I’m glad I was wrong.

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