He Beyond the Wall

Tonight, he's not observing me;
long black cloak, name unknown.
He would sit beneath an old elder tree,
upon a carefully carved stone.

Every night, on opposite sides of this wall -
I gaze into what I believe are eyes.
Waiting for him to heed my call,
hoping he has heard my cries.

*

A mysterious guardian; why is he here?
This strange attraction I’m feeling…
I cannot shake a subtle fear,
yet his presence is healing.

*

A memory stir, from the tip of my tongue,
now free and sinking in.
My shoulders drop, body un-wrung -
as old burdens dissolve thin.

*

All of a sudden, I hear a noise.
Turning around - it’s him I see.
Quietude, dispelled by an alluring voice.
Tonight, he’s approaching me.

His slim fingers brush my cheeks -
gently wiping anguished tears.
I pleasantly shiver as he speaks,
“I’ve waited for you, a thousand years.”

We embrace, and I hesitate to let go;
his warmth, a balm for my heart.
“There are many things, of which you don’t know.”
I ask him to reveal that part.

All my trust, placed in his guiding hand -
my relief, deeper than most.
We stepped into the other land;
gliding through that wall - easy as a ghost.

Lead to the tree and weathered stone,
he explains this is a sacred place.
I now notice he's only made out of bone,
yet cannot look away from his handsome face.

“A heart like honey, with intentions so pure -
you were remembered long - with love and revere.
Yet the stains in your life, you could not endure -
kept you from moving on from here.”

He says my time has since long passed,
“You’re forgiven, and done playing your role.”
Whispering that I will be free, at last,
he then kisses me and takes my soul.

Fading near the decorated stone,
I go, in peace, with pride.
Its face engraved with a name - my own,
a mark of where I died.

Created 28/09-2014

Background image from Kevin Escate on Unsplash.


I still have the link to a webpage where I got inspiration for this poem. The page isn't maintained anymore, but the image I looked at is still there (Kiss of Death).