Oscar And Endymion Poem by Denise Antoni

Oscar Wilde:
Each man kills the thing he loves.
Endymion:
For his element is grief.
Oscar:
The crackling salt upon the flame
Endymion:
His armistice with death.

The lily's withered chalice falls,
Its dust lies tarnished on the cloth.
For the hungry teeth of time devour
The tender sinews of our faith,

The yellow apples glowed like fire
In the orchards of our youth,
It is full winter now: the trees are bare,
We have killed the thing we love.

For all men kill the thing they love
By all let this be heard.
Yes, they killed you - with a bitter look,
And I? - with a flattering word.

Yet I am not sorry that I loved you,
Though you could not speak my name.
Ah! What else had I, a boy, to do? -
But play that fateful game.

For the hungry teeth of time devour
The lips that set us free,
And the silent-footed years pursue
The murderer in me.

Yet I did not mean to kill the thing I love,
(By each let this be heard) ,
Nor to betray you with a kiss,
A bitter look, a flattering word.

But surely it is something to have been
Your Beloved for all time.
To have walked hand in hand with Love, and seen
Your footprint next to mine.

And to meet again and hear your voice
Through the soft and silver woods,
Saying: I have made my choice, have lived
As true as my time allowed.

Have lived my poems, and, although
Youth is gone in wasted days,
Have found the lover's crown of myrtle
Dearer than the poet's crown of bays.