Apathy

I could die here, I think.

I know now your real name.

I could fold my shattered wings

And speak the word too mundane to say

And expire with the curse of your name dribbling from my lips

And clotting on my neck.

I know now you walk as a man angel hunter.

I could vomit

Blood and water upon my feet

And say never, never forgive him

He knows, he knows what he is doing

Again.

Men are too foolish to fear you,

I suppose.

I will die here, I think.

I know not if this is an abyss,

A joke,

Or the place I used to know.

All I know is that the age of legends is reduced to droplets of pity wept by the few that can see your footsteps in the stone.

I will die here.

I know.

But not yet.

Each step is pain

With wings too heavy to fly

Drenched in the love that screamed from my veins

When you pierced me with your unseen blade.

I will see you before I die

Face to face.

I do,

I suppose,

Still love you.