The Night Becomes You

“The Night Becomes You”

The night becomes you—
In the wilderness of stars,
There are voices I long to silence,
Speaking in tongues unheard—
A tear, stained by moonlight,
Falls to the leaden chalice.

In vain I sought to drink of this cup
Some echo of what your voice had been
In the shrine of the self-slain altar
Where all is sorrow in an ageless Heaven
In your eyes where a shadow has fallen.

I sought to see what lights remain
Where you have grown still—
Our friends of old depart without sound,
You have vanished from their faces
As I once beheld them in the walls.

Our names are writ upon no page.
We are cast into the hallowed vault
Of sleep without waking—
Within the dreamlessness of Time.
I lie beside you in the tomb
To love you as I loved before.
Such hands are cold, there is no breath
Yet the candles pendulously sway
Flames, as though stirred by a mournful sigh,
Dance amid the whispers in my mind—
Yes, they are laughing, and I long for silence
In this final moment by your side—
For but one instance to hear
My living soul call your sacred name.
There is no silence, and you hear me not,
They are laughing in cruelty upon your rest…
And thus, I love in vain.

© 2022 Marten Hoyle