For the Fallen

I did walking, a long time ago, and I came to the conclusion that the act of putting one foot in front of the other was rather pointless without your hand in mine.

The iridescent glow of the stars hit back with a simple thought that all we do here is being watched, and that the slip of your foot is as much my error as your own.

The fault lines were there at creation, or so we're told to make our misery compete, and yet I wonder where the trip really came and to who's benefit my fall is?

I know the time memoriam is a ship best sailed in without holes in it, and that our nailing up of the gap is at odds with the music that the band are playing.

So, do I stand on top deck and dance to the tunes of joy and friendship, or plot with the underhands to take the boat down? Sometimes I swear I do both.

I know that every corner of our globe has a mother shot through with the grief of her loss and that religion or colour is an irrelevance of fact.

So to you, the shining ones, I salute you. Gone from walking these paths that we tread and free now to find a better way than that with which you found.

May your joy be eternal, your legacy pure.

A X