Loss

Blood on blood, was the song that we played,
On the night we cut ourselves and our pact we made.
Of course we were only kids back then,
But still as blood brothers, we grew into men.
An so on that Ill fated day I just couldn't face,
That gaia had claimed you into her cold embrace.
I fell into a state of anguished pain,
And a guilt laden fear I hid for shame.
How dare I wrestle with fate and mortality,
When all my prayers should be only with friends and family.
I searched high and low to absolve this feeling of iniquity,
From religious scholars, to the philosophers of antiquity.
But such eloquent words did nothing to oust this stain,
Embossed on a heart, tormented by such a shame.
When at my end I happened upon an ancient book,
A tale of a man god on the walls of uruk.
A tale of love and loss that sang so gracefully,
of the coming to terms with grief and mortality.
I then understood that what plagued my psyche,
Was a veiled torment, that spanned all humanity.
My dearest friend you were my enkido,
And to contemplate fate, is a part
of grieving for you.

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