With Two Sixpence

this requiem rests
on the shoulders of sorrow

tempting the bitter ledge

beating hearts fled
for its leap could ne’er reconcile

miles left untrodden

since martyrdom murdered a young man’s ideals

undone by the blind whims
of human hypocrisy

his only desire

would dissolve into daydreams

stranded on gossamer wings

with strings strumming

he sings
his abysmal heart’s phantom refrain

where the wintry rain
swallows his woeful chagrin

with two sixpence

to sate charon’s blessing


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