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Quick Death Take Me! by Theresa Cecilia Newbill

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  • t.newbill
    It is only those who have never known love, who think they do not need it...And it is only the foolish among us, who think they can survive without it.
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 23, 2007
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      "It is only those who have never known love, who think they do not
      need
      it...And it is only the foolish among us, who think they can survive
      without
      it." -Robert Brian Newbill

      In loving memory of Robert Brian Newbill June 30, 1969 - July 3, 2006

      Quick Death Take Me! by Theresa Cecilia Newbill

      I

      In the solitude of the sea
      white winds bid a warm depart,
      the desperate flapping of wings
      fervid with zeal, compelling air
      with power, intimidating ordinary
      men raw, snatched one last gust
      with breathless abandon;winged-clipt
      sea gull, silent seasons steal the moon
      in the casement of Orion's glittering
      form.I loved you well, where you once
      dwelt tender upon our journey, your
      forever yours, my forever mine, all
      that our souls contain.

      II

      In those last days, you were the poet
      the romantic chanticleer who brought
      down for me a waning, brilliant orange
      sun that shone away social thirst I once
      had felt from earliest days, evaporating
      my fear indicating "There is no danger here."
      I followed your glance
      so tender and dear, taking my chances with ease.
      A promise of love slipped from tethered wanting
      to a sea of joy and fulfillment.
      Together we hovered along prolonging
      a moment in history,
      praying time would simply make it stop for us.

      III

      But Time's enchantments ceased and through a
      gateway She betook you.To hell with blasphemy!
      Why would thou give the gift of life and love
      only to take it away?!
      Cruelty is thy name!
      Time is thirty seven, his rocky domain!
      I stand here in the rain
      smite upon Her Runic Stone, at a lonely cross
      where bye-roads meet
      red faced with anger among a multitude of headstone
      grass, facing the tidings that hath slain the day
      and praying with persistance and sorrow
      to have quick death take me!
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