You might wake up some morning,
To the sound of something moving past your window in the wind
And if you're quick enough to rise
You'll catch the fleeting glimpse of someone's fading shadow

He writes. Death, underlined, with no date.

The fire dwindles, it flickers.

Darkness consumes the space.

The warmth drains off, the cold siphons in,

'til there is no stimulus, no sensation,

the energy has gone, it no longer exists.

There are other fires elsewhere,

but here, there is nothing

I write. If I finished this heaven

the next one could begin,

the one without clouds and harps,

angels or people I once loved.

I arch like a river for you,

wrestling rough dreams or demons,

winning silence only to lose silence.

My love is solid, frozen, but not enough

to walk on or skate over or scream about.

Many things sleep and blend

in this slate bed of marriage.

Don't be concerned, it will not harm you
It's only me pursuing something I'm not sure of
You might have heard my footsteps echo softly
In the distance through the canyons of your mind
I might have even called your name as I ran
Searching after something to believe in.

I need new definitions, no more soft losses

or faraway whispering.

I may melt, understanding

my own dark arena.

This is salt, essential to life,

always has been.

Heaven should be a comfort,

a series of lovers, each complete,

showing both sides of both sides.

Heaven, I say, should be basic,

something to build from

not a place to die for,

waiting until life disappears

to become dazzling, eternal,

winged and free.

Selected lyrics from Elusive Butterfly by songwriter, Bob Lind, special thanks to dannye for pointing out my mistake. Glen Campbell's cover is the one I had in mind.

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