The prairie feels once more empty of your lust. Of days passed, or memories forged, and all the things I lost. Trusting you was my failure. I witnessed the fall of reason and madness, as you became my jailor. I trust destiny will bring shame to you someday. Who knows, maybe on that day I’ll pray… yet, I reason the perverse nature of your actions will live on. The rain washes all things away, but on the river still a swan.
I think that as some things remain, so must evil. How could any of us find joy without upheaval? So true, yet so vain, to think that for good there must be reason. I say, there are a lot of things, but of them all nothing in cohesion.
It is as if destiny is a comic standing high on a stage. Speaking truth, speaking ill, and I must remember to disengage. The rule of law, not here abiding, diminishes the need for good sense. Clearly, you did away with the suspense.
You took it all, didn’t you darling? You say it was me who did the harming. Yet I sit, crying, in agony, and lacking all. Darkness knows I am no stranger to alcohol. I must drown my pain if not myself. Yes, up-on-high the rifle sits on the same shelf. I can get it, I thought about doing as much. I think it most when I miss your touch.
You taught me to think in ways I never knew. You showed me things, you spoke of others, and meanwhile we grew. So much it was you passed along to me. You taught me everything except to be free. Again tonight in darkness here I sit to cry. Wondering and wandering why you had to die.
