Locket.

I stumble awake.
Crunching bare foot downstairs,
a parties ruin reminding me of the night before.
As I enter the ballroom I'm fearing the scene,
of half eaten appetisers collecting dust on the oak floor.

The fireplace still burns, catching something in it's light,
metal, glowing in the embers that illuminate the silent night.
A locket, it was hers. Had she been here?
I know it's impossible, but the sudden cold shock of it almost brings me to tear.
I fumble with the latch.

A cold silver clasp.
The middle seperated with two shards of glass,
behind each a picture,
one of me, one of her.
My heart begins to purr.

My thoughts begind to stir, last year flashes in my mind.
The bedside memories, the pain on her face,
as I repeatedly begged God "Please...".
Even as she turned so pale, she still shone with inner light.
I smile through the sadness. I remember, her.

Like water in her movement, and flowers in her scent.
Amazing, how she let me in, to her mind,
and body, like snow laced with breaking crimson.
I promised I would be with her for eternity,
and I would have done anything to take her frailty.

Flowers. Perhaps I'll take her some later,
she loves those.
Sometimes I can feel a warmth come up through the stone.
Even if the way they die reminds me of her in her final throes,
soft petal skin, with a leafwork of bone.

I have an urge to search this house,
for some hidden room, where she might be hiding.
Or a crevice, holding a ghost of her I can have a final conversation with.
But I keep her here, in my chest. Here, in my heart,
so when I talk to myself, it's something she's a part.

I let my hand fall to my pocket, slide the locket inside.
Forget about it until later, when I'll remember it all again.
Stand still looking into the silence.
And the night brings dreams where I wish I was still with her,
To The End.