Melodies Of Loss Poem by Doctor Dashaun Snipes

Somewhere; somehow
I'm bound to find you in a hidden place.
My name is Death.
I come bearing burned offerings.
You try to figure out if it's his or hers to be conformed, and consumed in the furnace.
Why don't you try to stop trying to figure out who I want to take away in fire.
After all I want something out of dividing this sculpture of therapeutic melodies, when the innocent loose a soul that cannot stand to save from the tension building within the hours of grief and loss.
Because loosing love to the white noise through the static in a box of light can't be easy for a mere mortal, but immortality is forever calling from the other side.
Reaching out to the alumni of the physical world; gathering in the peaceful Corp I belong in the line.
Bleaching out my spirit the dingi armor from being trampled on in the years I am alive; have outlived, and hope to see better before my reach.
You won't have melatonin on your skin from the fear chasing out the chlorophyll from the summer in the winter, as melodies of loss blows you back into the mourning one.
Cut your losses off with a box cutter, box cutting my limbs in spite of you still holding  onto yesterday's failure can blind your faith.
You already know it's me burning in the light, you see me turning in the night I weep for your mother's soul, because of the melodies of loss.
The world stunned into shock.
Paralyzed from the frightening sight, not even the Pilar of us all could stand up to time to hold the foundation together and we collapse in melodies of loss.
I'm broken down to simplest form all throughout the coming years out of sight.
All I know; I am tired of being strong, and I am all out of fight, and I am gasping for oxygen.
It's been low, but the flames it's been high.
The lie I've been trying to unravel from it's grip it's been tough, and now that she's gone it's melodies of loss.
I wish you were here with me to feel melodies of being lost.
It's not always on key, if it's heard.
Sometimes it's low; Sometimes it's extremely high, but sometimes when life hits harder than thunder, it is a melody so heavy it can only be seen.
It's all that I have got to carry me home.
The end of everything is never foreseen; never conjured up by the figment of dreaming and wishful death. Just to deliver us from living until we're racking and aching in pain, nauseousness and visually impaired all around with no signs of an all purpose cure, then suddenly we realize how bad we want to stop breathing, and then run with the shoes of Athena to catch a cloud up to the stairway to heaven.
Today it's my mental health.
Melodies of the love we're loosing out on a plain we have to assume is not real, at least to us.
Is this something more than just a little white lie?
How can you leave me to fall behind?
In the this universe not sparing.
His eyes are on the sparrow that escaped out of it's cage just a moment too soon.
In the underworld.
There are lost souls that burn on coal soil that's brimstone and sulfur.
You may not care for them, their fate is already sealed.
You may not see them, but they remember what it's like to be in your place of standing tall, and breathing the breathe of life. Their rooting for you beyond the grave where you stand frozen in place I will see you in this place if you're lucky to jump the hurtle and outro the ballad of a stained life.
Melodies of loss.

Authorship by Mr Dashaun Rashod Snipes
©Mr. Dashaun Rashod Snipes
® Melodies Of Loss