His eyes were an offset blue,
Identical to the unyielding forces
of the tempestuous sea and the
churning influence of the clouds.
Or were they an unpolished silver,
Hued and stormy with flecks of life and purpose?
His face, swirled and irregular;
Was obscured by memories past,
unable to be distinguished
With the onslaught of trivial matters
Brought upon by mourning.
A brief, wistful absence of sound
Enveloped the company
With only a slight exhale of breath
Accompanying the silence as his passing was
Absorbed into the mindsets.
Droplets fell from their eyes,
Portraying the grief unable to
Be formed into terms of
endearment and confusion.
They silently wondered what
Was so pivotal that had dictated his fate.
No longer could they gaze into
those lucid pools, flakes of beryl caressing the
inner iris on a whim, and see their reflection
that revealed the love that they could
no longer shower him with.
A piercing cry tore through
the soft underbelly of echoing resonance
as it’s shrill tone rang throughout
the normally tranquil area. I had no doubt
Time itself froze dead in its tracks at the wonderance
of where it originated from.
I knew, though, for it was I that made the sound when I
learned of his death.
People curbed their tongues and curiosity as
Billowed out reactions fell in terms
Of contrition, dulled with shame
And hollow with vexation
At how one so young was put to
Eternal Rest so promptly.
An eclipse of emotions brought
forth a vivid foundation ready to
collapse at the slightest racy
whisper of thoughtlessness,
As the people were now withered
and shallow from heartbreak.
They were at a loss...
Did he perish on that frigid, unwelcoming floor?
Forlorn with the inconvenient truth that
he was alone and would succumb to the
afterlife with his mind as his only companion and ally?
This was what the company
consigned to the seemingly endless oblivion
of anguish and grief observed, for there
was no calming closure of his demise.
Not for me, anyways.
It was as if an immortal, sinking force
Had been placed upon my chest and soul,
Weighed down with anguish and
misery at our sudden loss.
Even though I was not able to partake
In his burial, I could envision
It with every minute detail
seared into my mind like a branding.
His viridescent mahogany eyes,
once so scintillated and filled with charismatic elation
had now transcended into a dull, faded outcrop
free from extraneous colors that I now
wish to have never graced my grieving presence.
The hues were to be no longer accentuated
with love and purpose, for there was
nothing left but a memory of hollow endearment.
Those revelations coursed through my
mind and dulled my senses as I wandered
The path of dejection, downcast with mournfulness
And pessimistic bitterness associated with grief.
His fleeting moment of existence
Caught in my throat,
For I could no longer assume
That my time on this planet
Was as worthwhile or as long
As I could ever conceptualize.
He was withheld in the
Transcendence Of time,
With only sweet kindling’s
Of fondness resurfaced
To bring about a faded memory
That some will forget about in due time.
As time grew older, the condensed snippets
of memories finally coaxed my withered
emotions out of its veil as I finally
paid heed to my sorrow and allowed
Myself to come to terms with grief.
I will forever glance at the still of a
cross-faded memory held within the confines
of my camera. It was an old screenshot,
one that I now assume would be
worn down if it were made of paper.
It was of us together, and with it came
the only happy memory that we shared.
His twinkling eyes were creased, as his
gap-toothed, dimpled smile radiated of pure
Joy and merriment that could only be captured
in a moment of blissful unawareness.
His round face was barely
Framed with his short, curly hair, its color hard
to distinguish because of the light.
He was slouched to the camera,
and his face was the only seeable part of him,
as was mine. The picture caught him mid-speech,
as he seemed to be relaying something jovial
and most-likely unwitty as I seemed to be screaming
heartily to the camera, eyes crinkled in
pleasure as my face was halfway out
of the snapshot. I still chuckle
at the antics of the stilled photo
and the ones captured within it.
His appearance from that memory
would regularly dance into the
Frame of my mind’s eye, and I used to
push it away with bitterness and hatred for what I could
no longer be with, yet now I allowed a low-spirited,
despondent smile to grace my face as I remembered
The best that he had to offer to this world.
Parted ways, sullen roads,
and an empty heartache
housed by insistent longing
kept me restless and heedful time and time again.
Darted by passing dreams and
recollections of vacant,
I realized that those faded azure
eyes would forever haunt me.
If only I could remember
what they looked like.