This Being an Ode to a Man Whom I Once Knew

THIS being an ode to a man whom I once knew.
Though our days of knowing now are through
And our times of joking, laughter, joy – oh, those too
Are drowned in the sorrow of this
This being an ode to a man
Whom I once knew.

Ever-more coarse grows the river of tears
All hope but silenced among feather-light fears
That weigh down the shadow of him, the man
Whom I once knew.

Immersed is the forest we used to haunt
Its trees now grey, gargoyle and gaunt
And in clearings flooded, with paper-thin eye
Sits the reflection – now haggard, rotten and died –
Of the man
Whom I once knew.

Alas that man he is no longer.
But instead a pale murmur who the heartless may ponder
To have belonged to their ranks –
Or, perhaps –

Or, perhaps not.

For he is no longer

The man

Whom I once knew.