A Gardener Despairs

- jan-u-wine

I scarce know
when the running
from
became
the running
towards.

More
than a world
away,
you lie,

silent

upon the ground.

At least
I know
you
no longer feel
the cold
reaching through
the very earth
at our backs.

How long
must I lie
here
and
watch
you
hold
It
within your hand,
and
hear
the soft
murmur
of your
voice
in the dark?

You do not
even
trouble yourself
to turn away
from me
anymore.

Somehow,
my
hand
finds
the hilt of
the sword
you,
in your madness,
no longer
carry.

If
I were to use it,
now,
it would be mercy.

Am I
your friend
or
am I not?

You would want
me
to finish
this task....

if you were here,
if
only
you
were here.

I know
that is what
you would
wish:
to finish,
and go home
together.

When
I
have done,
I will find you.

We shall still
be together.

You
are so far
beyond
being helpless,
and
yet,
somehow,
more helpless
still.

If
I must
do this
terrible thing,
I must look
into your eyes.

You
deserve
that much.

Please,
do not let
me see
you
there.

Let me see
only
Him.

Let me
strike
only
Him.

I must not cry
now
if I have
hope of doing
this.

In the horror
of this
dark dream,
I raise my head
and find
the hardness
of your eyes,
fierce
upon mine.

Unaccountably,
tears
track
tired
lines
upon your face.

Your hands
lie,
empty
at your side.

Is this
you
or
His
Trickery?

He would
have me
spare
you
that he
might
torment
you
for all the long ages
to come.

All the long ages
without me
to
help you.

I raise my hand.

The blade
is
bright.

So bright….

It rests
on the ground
between us.

I cannot harm you.

It does not matter
if all the world
ends
because
I cannot.

I am crying
next
to you,
though there are
no tears.

One of us
must take
up
this
sword,
must walk
these
last few steps,
must do
what we
were sent here for.

If it cannot
be you,
at least
take up the sword.

I know
He
has the strength
to do
to me
what I could not
do
to you.

May we yet
be found
together.