I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

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The Mouth Of Mourning

Somewhere between the shroud of midnight
And the lighted doorway of dawn,
You conquered surprise.
Or did you simply remember to forget?

Was it there where you found your courage,
Or is your courage but another deception?
If it were more you would be free;
You would be more alive, even
In the extinction you have chosen.

Whatever name you give tomorrow,
It will still come to pass,
And, to be past;
Do you believe that ignorance could alter that?
I thought as much when you asked me
Whether a nameless man thought
Beyond a desire to be called.

Many times I have felt your eyes
Upon me as I slept.
Though the motive then could I never divine,
I think, only now, that I have,
And no longer feel it,
That it was sorrow;
Or at least desperation –
The gentle grip of loss taking hold of necessity.

I wonder, do you sleep now you are alone?
Or do you lie awake? your eyes pointing
To the door, or the sky, in your eternal anticipation.

Somewhere between the shroud of midnight
And the lighted doorway of dawn,
You will be swallowed by the mouth of mourning,
And I will be free.