The Valley of the Fallen

 
Thunder pierce my heart.
Between teardrops, willows die—
Meeting only to depart;
For this, for this, I cry.

Lie in Heaven, spirit frail.
Among death throes, turn to me.
Shed thy tears into the veil
Of a stone twilight to be.

We will not be alone
In the Valley of the Fallen.
We will become the Unknown,
And our flesh forgotten.

This kiss of woe and sighs
In the cold of the farther sphere,
Is for the singing of goodbyes
That the shadows alone can hear.

And that lullaby is the wine
That o’er our hearts eclipse,
With suns that never shine
The meeting of our lips.

© 2021 Marten Hoyle