1. LET THE BLADE FALL SOON
Ask, ask! and it will be given! — I ask
For a last look into my loved one’s eyes
Before the blinds are drawn. That’s my ask:
Last look, last kiss to keep, when all else dies.
See me lost in time’s labyrinth who seek
My love again, my love lost in the maze
Of sunless alleys doomed and winterbleak—
Sick to death, Seigneur, of your dark ways.
Why don’t you get on with it, Lord Horror?
Why lift the blade and not strike? Go on, do it!
Let the blade fall soon, today or tomorrow.
Oh, what a mess you’ve made of things—you blew it!
Have done, have done!—produce Death from your pack!
Deal the cards soon, Sir, and get off my back!
2. MY DYING SPHINX
MY DYING SPHINX
Where are you now, my love, where are you now?
Wherever you are, you’re lost, and so am I.
In separate mazes round and round we go.
The only question one can ask is, Why?
I sip my coffee now in silent rooms
—Thank God for silence, one sweet consolation!—
You, my love, a deadlier worm consumes:
Dementia, brain death, mind annihilation.
My maze at least leads outside. So I think.
I could get used to it, my kinder maze:
Read books to pass the time, refuse to sink
Lower than this into a dead-eyed daze.
‘What God,’ I ask, ‘planned this black fate for you?’
Sphinx-like, my love smiles back—‘If you but knew!’