These Have Ended and musings.

I'm lying in bed under the oppressive heat of still summer air. I sweat in my clothes, I know I will need a shower before I got out this evening. Last night I was at a candlelight vigil for a man I barely knew, had only met once or twice. He committed suicide. I was there more for me then for anything else. It was powerful and moving, I almost did the same thing last month.

Someone sang Amazing Grace with a beautiful and pure voice. I cried. That does not happen often. I stood between two men. One who is my friend, my brother. The other who is one of many potential futures. I was there, touching them both at the same time. It made me think, it pulled my consciousness out of time for awhile.

I was there more for him then for me. I needed to see the fallout of the things I had contemplated. The ripples of life that that move around world. The ripples of death that follow those. I wonder now, is anyone untouched? None of us are virgins to death. This has ended.

And now a poem:

These Have Ended

O! Insatiable Archer, Death!

I see you still have arrows.

Your quiver does not empty

as the limits of mortal minds.

And, effortless, never errant,

I see this one has struck;

brought peace to mortal heart.

What crave thee, in Achilles heel?

We, defenseless against you

mourn each feathered shaft

and the soulless passing

of your empty shadow.

What epitath would you pen?

Within the entire graveyard,

evidence of your existence,

echoes only this:

These have ended.

These have ended.

These have ended.