such an empty sound,
this silence.
my crippled hand betrays me.
where once it sought to compose
a symphony of syllables,
now it pens only
this verse of futility.
and lying here,
on the loose soil beside your grave
i long to break this silence
to wrap you in some poem
paint you beautiful and timeless
and gift you to the world
that your memory would flourish...
but no Annabel Lee falls from my pen,
and you've left this world with your story untold.
i am sorry my love.
i have not within me the gift of poetic immortality,
or it would be yours.
but i still breathe for you,
and i will not forget.
in memory of Crystal Vrooman
March 26 1987 - June 10, 2007
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