Torment Revisited

In pain, the soul wails,
And the depths of her cry out.
The fallacy of normalcy, is no more.
She is tormented, but lucid;
The potency of her agony
Is measured in piecing screams.
It is the wounding of her being;
The severity of agony finally revealed.
It is the culmination of years of pain
And of things unseen.

Revelation of Angels

On that day, when we suffer no more, it shall be glorious to behold.
The rain shall fall with a wondrous rainbow, forming a celestial shawl.
The earth will shake, and we shall stand like redwood trees, tall.
We will be reunited with our loves, who shed tears when they fell before the fall.
My mother will call my name as it was when I was in her womb, and I will hear her call.
I will embrace my grandmother as it was when I was a child in her arms.
By a peaceful river, we shall gather and sing angelically composed songs.
All the tears from the years of our weeping will be transformed into diamond waterfalls.

The light in our eyes that sorrow once stole
Shall be returned to us one thousand times fold.
We will dwell in the warmth of indescribable love and tread upon the desolate cold.
We will dwell in the warmth of indescribable love and tread upon the desolate cold.
On that day, all the beautiful mysteries of the world will be told.
Broken hearts will mend — and our fractured auras will be made whole.
On that day, the white wings we never knew we had, will begin to unfold.
On that day, the white wings we never knew we had ,will begin to unfold.



Remnants of Heartbreak

It is the ones we love deeply that blind us.
In the time of heartbreak and weeping,
We pray that true love will find us.
It is the long trail of ignored subtleties
That always come back to haunt us.
In the coldness of betrayal and loneliness,
Beautiful promises previously whispered are worthless.
The days and nights of sacrifice,
And in-depth talks of hopes for the future become fruitless.
Sometimes anguish can turn the once loving and affectionate,
Into the dispassionate and ruthless.

Half–Life of Sorrow

I wanted to hold you and kiss you,
but I had to turn my face away;
I love you, and I didn’t want to see you that way.
Forgive me for my cowardice;
I sat in a wooden pew and tried to shield myself
from what young eyes should never have to witness.
There was pain in so many of us.
We were young and motherless,
in deep waters, running rudderless,
trying to put our pain behind us.
We faced the world with sorrowful souls,
but we were never told, that agony uncontrolled
could permanently damage us.

Prayer of the Hospital Corpsman

Guide my hands oh Lord, and renew my resolve.
Strengthen me in my hour of truth,
and increase my courage to see the mission through.
The men in my care, hear their cries, and see their tears.
Restore their health quickly, so they can gird up themselves
and carry on in battle valiantly.
If they should face death, welcome them into your rest
where they will dwell in peace eternally.
Shield me from the attacks of the enemy,
and keep my hands steady.
Calm my heart in the face of the storm
so I can fulfill my duties and triage correctly.
Allow these men to find solitude in their pain;
take their thoughts away from the severity of their injuries.
Focus their thoughts on the beauty of the women they love,
and bring back fond memories of their families.
In their hour of agony, provide them an escape.
Heavenly Father, for the light of your love we wait.
In the hell of warfare, for your angels we await.



Impassioned Elucidations

Created in divinity, she is much more than beauty
but the embodiment of a mystical mystery that the eyes can’t see.
To touch her essence, you must love her unconditionally.
To reach her depths, you must draw out her whispers of long held secrecy.
There must be an ethereal intimacy that bonds the souls together;
In sincerity, you must whisper sweet words to her heart to find her treasure.
In her, there is a transcendent quietness that brings peace
and a supreme love that break the chains of inhibition that causes release.
She is immersed in divinity, from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.
The warmth of her love, causes joyous tears and peaceful sleep.
In passionate kisses, the taste of her lips are sweet;
The strands of her hair, are like celestial waterfalls where angels meet.



After It’s Gone

When love is no more, the viciousness of words
is the the weapon that cuts to the core;
all that is left are melancholic whispers, and thoughts of regret.
Years of unhappiness is a slow death,
culminating in the gasping of air in final breaths—
from deep wounds, the soul is disfigured,
and the heart relinquishes passionate feelings in its relent.
There are no goodbye kisses or last intimate experiences;
after the last screams, hatred rises to the surface,
and tears are shed in stagnant silence.
The door closes, and the first night of loneliness
brings more melancholia and darkness.
In an empty dwelling, after it finally sets in,
reality is cruel in its starkness.

Medical Examiner’s Journal

9:36 PM, New York City.

Coldness has gripped my heart. I have become exceedingly numb to the bodies that lie before me, even the young. I have grown accustomed to the taste of metal that lingers on my tongue. In the beginning I contemplated my own mortality, but now I only contemplate an increase in my salary. I must say, the long hours have taken a toll on me; REM sleep is difficult to attain lately. The last poor soul I examined was burned badly and didn’t have any surviving family. I used to be highly religious, but recently, I have been exploring the concepts of agnosticism and atheism more and more. Life hasn’t been the same, since Sarah walked out of the door; divorce lawyers are expensive. Maybe, it was for the best that we had two failed pregnancies, as I assume this divorce process could have gotten much more ugly. I’ve come to the realization that marriage is not for me; strangely, with everything we’ve been through in court, I still love her and genuinely want her to be happy. I hope she meets a great guy and can finally start a family. We were both in medical school when we met; I thought we would be together forever, but I guess that didn’t work out, whatever. The district attorney has been on my ass about the promptness of my reports, but fuck her. She, and her office are on my fucking time; the bodies keep coming in, and are stacked high. I’m not going to perform half-assed autopsies for the sake of time; these are still human beings and deserve respect and dignity, but more importantly, accuracy. On most days, Bach’s genius gets me through the long hours. Most of my colleagues are good people, but this particular guy, Kevin, is an asshole; most of the guys named Kevin I’ve come across are pricks. I am an absolute professional in this office, and my work can stand against any independent examination. Can’t say the same for “Kev.” I guess that’s why I’m the Chief Medical Examiner — and he is not. I’m proud of myself for being disciplined enough to cut back on cigarettes. Recently, I’ve tried menthols, but they’re absolutely disgusting; vaping is completely out of the question. I haven’t had sex since Sarah left, but it is companionship that I miss the most — or maybe not. The coffee here is bullshit, so I bring in the good stuff for myself and a few others. I’ve been receiving constant calls from my mother, regarding my divorce; she wants me to work things out with Sarah. There’s nothing left to work out, so I think not. As much as I love my mother, she needs to learn to stay out of my personal affairs. I saw how she emotionally clobbered my father to a pulp. He died as the result of a massive heart attack. I’m considering signing up on one those so called “dating” sites; the word “dating” is used loosely these days. I was walking in the city and had some random woman approach me with the offer of “services.” I replied with, What services are you specifically referring to? After she answered, I politely declined. I’ll give myself sixty days to find someone on whatever dating site I decide to go with. I’m not in the business of wasting my money. I’d like to find someone at least somewhat sane; no unreasonable expectations either. Eleven years of, honey do this and honey do that, was enough for a lifetime. After a while, the constant demands became a fucking nightmare, as if I already didn’t have enough on my plate dealing with my profession. I was responsible, faithful, maintained a roof over our heads in a nice neighborhood, maintained excellent credit, engaged in intimacy with her regularly (not just a five minute pounding, but actual intimacy with foreplay), and tried to show sincere interest in the things she enjoyed. I think that’s a pretty good goddamn track record; I told myself that’s it, I’m not doing anything else. Working here can be a drain on your mental health, so I guess the insensibility serves some purpose. One week of time off coming up next week. Looking forward to it.