Spilled Blood.... Poem by JOE JOHNSON

I stood and watched as
I saw you slowly fall to
the ground. What has
gone wrong, what were
you thinking?

You lay with a blade in
your hand, RED, that is
all I see. Your eyes speak
no longer, your presence
is finally absent.

I suddenly began to understand
for it is not you but it was your
desire to be free, to seek life
elsewhere.

I will forever remember your
loquacious voice and your daring
soul, but let me cover you one more
time.

As I clutch your hand I feel cold and
afraid. What shall I do? The silent
voice has come to pass but perhaps
to take me with it.

Shadows begin to take form and the
sound of your dripping blood draws
them forth with each drop louder than
the last.

Our life together felt more outlandish than
regular, nothing but caliginous thoughts
begin to cloud me. My need for you has
grown and so my the gods allow our
reds to bond by the last slash of the blade.
My last breath will be yours.