Title: The Day of the Funeral
Author: Triskell
Email: triskell@xpoint.at
Fandom: SW TPM Slash
Rating: PG
Summary: see title
Spoilers: TPM ending
Category: Poetry
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Star Wars, I own the poem. :D
Archive: haven-of-fic please; my website (http://www.user.xpoint.at/e.lebic/default.htm)
Notes: Thanks to Darry for the beta! Please direct all comments to triskell@xpoint.at;

(c) JEL, March 2000


I rise from hazy memories that haunt my sleep,
Cling to my soul and ward off love - I cannot weep -
On all the worlds across the galaxy there are not tears
Enough to compensate for my grief and loss for all the years

That will yet come. My aching soul can scarcely keep
The pain at bay; sorrow is cold and bleak and deep -
Like currents rushing in my blood; my fears
Break through my barriers and death leers

At me, uncertain, in the mists of burned-out time.
What did I do - what was the hideous crime
That holds the key to what I suffer now? I loved.
I cared and with one moment all was lost. I loved.

If nothing else - of this I'm sure. And had I told you?
Changes of a destiny too far etched into marble stones
Can fill the longing of a mind up to the brim,
Yet what I feel seeps into every breath, and even in my bones.

My heart is with the man I loved, buried deep inside his grave,
And yet I will go on, face my doom or destiny - be brave.