Trust, A Requiem

Trust.
Such a simple word.
Can I trust you?
Can you trust me?
The remnants of our trust lie all around me like shards of shattered glass.
Cold and brilliant,
They cut into my soul like a blade
And the blood drips black red through my fingers,
My essence seeping from the wound,
Glistening in the darkness.

Urawaza.
And so the secret tricks continue,
On both sides,
Despite the hollow ring of our dead voices claiming otherwise.
And the gulf between us, which was narrowing, widens again.
My heart grows cold,
My soul fades in the pale twilight of our connection,
And the blood drips black red through my fingers.

Now, in the dark world where I dwell,
Ugly things,
And surprising things,
And sometimes little wondrous things,
Spill out in me constantly,
And I can count on nothing.

~ by Madron on June 3, 2008.