Snuffed Out

The spark that your eyes had
whenever you used to see me
is no longer there.

The voice that used to allude me
is no longer singing,
have the flowers in your garden dried?
Have the fire in your veins snuffed?

Where is that spark of your stars?
and the warmth of your fire?
That used to be my comfort,
in the middle of my emptiness.

But soon, perhaps,
was the dark water of my emptiness
that snuffed your passion off?

Little by little, your voice stopped singing,
little by little, the clouds of your storm dissipated,
but now I understand
that nature is indifferent;
which is why I don't cling
like I used to do.

But realizing this indifference
does not make the pain of it all go away,
it lessens the torture but the thorns are still there.

(c) Pekky Marquez, 2007