The Death Of One Who Never Lived Poem by Lord Dylan ParrishSubda of Sealand

In these hands, a gun.
I know not how it got here.
Ask the other me.

This body holds two minds,
and each knows not the other.
Which of us was born?

Which one imagined?
Rememb’ring the same childhood,
Neither one can know.

Hear, though, what is known.
One of us wants us to die.
The other cares not.

Life mistreated us.
We never felt what love was;
half hates what half loves.

How could either win?
Indecision was our tale.
Fable, story, myth:

love’s no more to us.
Scarred arms: all that hold our hands
past, present, future.

Future—what is it?
Does it hold any meaning?
No. It holds nothing.

Neither mine nor yours, —
for what is a life, really?
In spectrum: nothing.

Sans one, Earth still spins.
No one man can change this fact.
All we have is God.

No—we have choice, too.
And with choice, we have this gun,
holster of my peace.

Why’s the sun so bright?
A sign from God who made me?
Clichés would show rain.

No tears then, O’ Lord?
Are your arms open for us?
My heart yearns for love.

Is that your voice, Lord?
Are you calling out my name?
“Eros, ” calls the wind.

Dear Lord, what want you? —
for Eros is my name not.
Could you, then, mean him?

Is he the true first?
Then why have I these mem’ries?
I know I was young—

I owned this body.
Of this fact, I am certain.
I know ev’ry scar—

How’s this life not mine?
Despairing, I cry to God:
“Where, Lord, is fairness?

Why must I share life? ”
But no answer comes to me
on my knees in tears.

Human: despairing.
I set my mind in judgment.
I look to the ground.

On this wooden floor,
my tears fall, for pity’s lack.
Grass and rocks surround.

They choke this wood deck.
They surround like life’s troubles,
and we can’t bear them.

Not any longer.
Unfair life’s become too much.
Too much expected—

We cannot fulfil.
So, my Lord, we surrender.
All we are is yours.

In these hands, a gun.
I know not how it got here.
In my mouth, it sleeps.

Then the trigger pulls;
and two minds become one soul,
We fall into joy.

For with this death comes solace.