Serenade

Death caws overhead as the black cat smirks
while revealing nothing in its glassy gaze.
A lone plastic bag makes the only rustling sound,
teasing me within this endless maze.
And it is quite clear that I write better than I live
when I spot life coursing through your veins.
We walk side-by-side down the same dark road,
yet you walk freely as I struggle with chains.

You go your way and I go mine, blood dripping
onto the grave as I visit the dead old man.
Concerns about the gash sustained in the bar fight
only grow more when I insist it was part of the plan.
I remember when, in exchange for bravery and heart,
I was promised the world and everything that is in it.
And I remember when the world fought my grasp
As my bravery and heart slowly waned, bit by bit.

Then we cross again outside my house, your fears
at my indifference growing steadily in silence.
My dismissals with wringing hands become agitated
Until they soon become yells of outré violence.
The tears form a stream on your face as you
Suggest we go out the back garden and serenade the walls.
My confusion meets your delusion as you hope
Whoever else is listening may just answer our calls.