Purgatory Poem by Ella Veyes

Which God of yours has taken my sky?
The Night has won - The pawn must die.

The hazy horizon: a rise or a set. A piece or a deck.
Betwixt the soil, the stars? The world. The wreck.

There was an entity to my eternity, at least until you blocked it.
The gamble: to dream or breathe. Burned by a flame not lit.

This loss of light was always a myth too true.
Yet between life and death - I choose you.

This version of Heaven? Unrequited, self-same suicide.
But to touch you I’d die forever, and still find Heaven inside.

The spherical salute or the ante of a linéd fate.
But I can’t sense this heaven - to foresee and yet fixate.

An alignment of sorrow inside the same plane of parallel.
The eloignment of two ends that never met, yet one still fell.

Though pain has no dimension, love has no regret,
‘Til I care no difference between a pitfall or sunset.
Yet through the waning sky, the un-timed pulse; intangible,
You are the spectrum of the dream, the only truth non-structural.
A twain never entwined is still a part of one bloodstream,
Without a Heaven or a Hell, within a realm not quite agleam,

The reverie to this reality - ‘to sleep, perchance to dream’.