He no longer cared. He didnt care that there were three vultures in his house, or that he hadnt even as looked in the direction of the arts for 3 weeks. Not only didnt he care, but he liked it. Then he went to his sketch table and saw a vase with one live rose left. He picked it up, and after tearing off two petals dropped it all on the ground in front of him. It was too much, too much for her to have left, for him to care about that, or for him to even see so much as a color other than hues and pitied shades in 2 months. He was fully dressed, and at his fully drawn height grabbed his composition and went to his chamber. Once there he sang his own requiem and went to his coffin. Once he had lien down it felt all to good to seal up that case that was too heavy to be lifted up from the inside, and no one was to be coming down for a long time. So once it shut he closed his un-leveled eyes forever.
Months seems to be too short,
Yet seem to be forever.
We all have those childish hopes, that we will not remember,
All that we have learned here,
Since together well take on the world,
Yet apart it seems to last for years where we only can grow old,
Not apart for much too long.
Once the angels kiss takes hold of us,
It will only be a moment,
I will meet you in the heavens.
For this is the bliss He promised,
With the pain He gave me then,
Now all you have to do is listen,
To my sweet melodic honesty.
My love I give my heart to you,
For all those days I caused you pain,
I caused myself a thousand more.
The Requiem of Erik Destler









