holding my hand through my pasts painful contractions.

Never questioning you would be there forever,

whether in the dark of night or light of day.

My obsession with fixing the past severed,

now I am free, as a child at play.

I knew somehow from the very start,

you were the gardener to my heart.

In a times of darkness and despair you shine,

like shards of glass rubbed smooth by ocean brine;

polishing the rubble of my soul, I am refined.

You showed me always that I was worthy,

silently portraying your acceptance.

You always treated me honorably,

even in my folly you found credence.

When needed I’d cry on your shoulder,

dearest friend, my strength you’d bolster.

Unfailing you gave comfort,

from the storm of life you were my port.

Every game we have played,

no moment ever frayed;

no longer seeing my future so grave?

My finale desperate secret is yours,

offered upon the altar of trust;

I break through my hearts alkalied crust.

Surrendering to my self imposed doom,

I stand lonely on this dune.

My worthless world no longer blue,

because I once was loved by you.

Bryan Lang