Beloved,

 

There are no martyrs to bear your name. None 

to lay down a heavy sword. This is my fault 

somehow. In light of untimely gloom, I misused 

 

devotion. 

 

I was never a grave. Just empty. My love 

rotted beside me. I pulled him in but 

there’s no dirt to bury. 

 

I cannot suffer for love. Give me 

a whole man, more than bone and gore. 

 

To earth you is a dream.