In the Valley of Echoes

Zero hour is met  
With a  
Most  
Egregious  
Weight  
Of gravity  

My planet  
Weights  
Upon me  
 
The blade  
Attenuates  
Y  
Upon  
X  
Axis  
Presses a  
Pale  
Indenture  
Into the flesh  
Of my wrist  
 
All the memories  
Wail  
She held my  
Hands  
She asked  
Of my old  
Lost  
Love  
 
She asked of  
Marriage  
Children  
And of  
Love  
 
She held my hands  
She held her  
Tongue  
 
A voice pierces the  
Tumult  
Calm  
Clear  
Asking  
What is it you wish to kill,  
Precisely?  
 
I answer,  
The loss  
 
What loss? She was never yours  
Never gave you her  
Voice  
Her  
Eyes  
Her  
Truth  
She held out  
Her heart  
In a dark  
Room  
Silent as a  
Tomb  
Wishing  
You  
Had  
Eyes  
To see it  
 
The blade agrees  
Draws a red  
Period  
To punctuate this  
Truth  
 
A calm, steady  
Voice  
Repeats  
What is it you wish you to kill,  
Precisely?  
 
The shame  
Both of us so  
Silent  
Neither capable of  
Receiving  
Love  
She hurls herself into  
Darkness  
I sit at the lip of this  
Laughing  
Abyssal  
I moan  
The blade agrees  
Relents a vital  
Quarter  
Inch  
 
We sit, together  
Illusion of  
Loss  
Weight of the  
Shame of  
This  
Tragic  
Death of what  
Might  
Be  
The blade  
The period it  
Creates  
My  
Planet  
Venus  
Crushed in her  
Arms  
Voices of past  
Opportunities  
Roar  
 
Zero hour  
 
..  
 
My agony is  
Complete  
Immersion  
My companion  
Redacts the joy of my  
Dreams  
In violent  
Red and black  
Ink  
Leaves the  
Horrors  
To hammer  
Home their  
Lessons  
 
Spits in my  
Food  
Hands it to me  
Flavorless  
I eat  
I, an automaton  
Awareness  
Elsewhere  
 
I hear its thunder in  
Every  
Sound  
See its gaze in  
Every  
Surface  
 
I read  
Everything  
Screams  
Accusations  
 
I read  
I read  
I scream  
I scream  
 
But worst is where I  
Find  
In silence  
Nothing but  
Myself  
In darkness  
Which I  
Drown  
Nothing but  
The tragedy  
I have  
Coauthored  
 
The boy and his  
Two fisted  
Balm and  
Venom  
Are nothing  
 
In darkness I  
Linger  
My pores  
Pool with  
Mouths  
Gorged upon  
Poison  
 
And yet, a hand  
Reaches  
Down  
To me  
Reaches  
Grasps my  
Red  
Ink  
Stained  
Wrist  
And  
Gently  
Holds  
Calmly  
Lifts  
I, a child  
This reaching  
Arm  
A father  
 
Hours of calm  
Embrace  
I, wrapped within  
This  
Incandescent  
Oasis  
 
We do not sleep  
We  
Rest  
In silent  
Cease fire  
 
..  
 
The Old Book speaks  
 
Thou hast not walked in my  
Precepts and  
Ways  
And so thy love  
Is taken  
And given  
To another  
 
I sit in the wake of this  
Judgement  
Exiled  
To the valley of  
Echoes  
 
In ketosis I  
Burn  
I tighten  
Clothes  
Loosen  
 
I live in a cloister of  
Moment by  
Moment  
Reward of  
Action or  
Agony of  
Stilled  
Motion  
 
I set up my rehabilitation  
Appointment  
I calm  
I think of her  
She held my hands  
I ache  
 
Minute by minute  
This  
Essential  
Struggle  
 
..  
 
I walk the avenues  
I have  
To  
Cannot sit  
Still  
For long  
 
I make my way past the  
Hollow of  
Homeless  
Souls  
Grown slightly  
Familiar from my  
Visits with  
Supplies  
 
An unfamiliar man  
Wails  
Gesticulates  
Wildly  
Foot half in a  
Collapsed  
Tent  
 
Elderly  
Skin taut  
Unshaven face  
Bristling with  
White  
Stubble  
Upon  
Dark, reddened  
Skin  
 
Two women and two  
Men  
Stand aside  
Postures of  
Alarm  
Somewhere between  
Fear and  
Necessary  
Aggression  
 
I duck under the low  
Arboreal  
Ceiling  
I stand before him  
 
He  
Redirects his  
Rage at this new  
Clean  
Target of obvious  
Portly  
Comforts  
 
He rails at me, I  
Look  
At him  
Look at this  
Child  
 
He slowly simmers into  
Silence  
I smile  
 
This child  
 
Pain  
Wells in my  
Eyes  
 
He looks at me  
He weeps  
 
Minutes pass  
I take his trembling  
Hand  
He stinks of  
Tobacco  
His breath smells of  
Alcohol  
 
I hold his hand  
Into the valley  
Of echoes  
Between  
He weeps  
 
..  
 
In this new house  
Of upside  
Down  
My former  
Feasts are  
Iron and  
Earth  
 
In this new world of  
Hurt  
Idle  
Hours  
Are horrors  
 
Only in  
Growth  
Advancement  
Do I find  
Solace  
 
In this curious  
Clean  
Hollow of  
Clearing  
Wreckage  
I lay  
In darkness  
In the deep  
Trenches of the  
Night  
Where silence  
Reigns  
Without  
And  
Within  
 
The calm steady voice  
The reaching hand  
It was  
Me  
 
The straight line of my  
Lips  
Curves  
Into a  
Convex  
Draws an  
Indent into my  
Cheek  
 
I smile  
 
Awake  
Awake  
I awake  
 
I sleep  
 
..  
 
In the Valley of Echoes  
By  
Daniel Christensen