To Xander

Degeneration eats away at gear and sinew
All of eternity is held in the sound
The strum of time against our bodies
Cascading in helpless harmony
Like the lowering of a guillotine

I have known your wisdom for years uncounted
The sweet breath of friendship,
eternity's unforgiving loop,
possibly all of time in itself,
has satisfied my ear.

My heart appears through many lenses,
but they have all loved you.

The meaning of cold biscuits sopped in butter,
Soft sand sifting through bare toes,
Crowded brown buses stifling with huddled masses,
Dark nights of loneliness and isolation,
But they have all loved you.

I come to you now
To plunder what I can from your coffin
And then scratch your bones with runes
And cast them to the four winds.
Speak to me one last time, my oracle,
And I will bury you, oh so softly,
In the part of me that time cannot reach.

Despair is coming
Bubbling underneath the shallows
Of this cowardly old world
And I must wade alone
For fear of the damnation of the sloth
A stone sinking in the drowning waters
But when finally this dreadful trudging ends
I will return and revel
In your beauty and music.