The Last Safe Place
We’ll meet in the library, when
you escape the fire, I
swore we’d see each other, and
where the world is quiet, die.
I remember our life, when
time was luminescent, I
knew we’d lose each other, then
love was just a prescient, lie.
Now you’re safe, I’m on the lam:
stuck underground, and cold and lost;
loathed and cursed and double crossed;
lousy with the touch of frost.
Sorrow comes of late, to me,
I’ve stayed away too long, for you.
Together, there’s no chance to be,
our old friends ever growing few.
We all see what we want to see,
Except for me, I don’t see you.
I found the notes you left for me,
Your words are worth enough, in lieu.
The world is a hollow place, filled with melancholy.
I know this not because I have experienced it:
have I read about it, sure; have I seen it, maybe.
To be on the other side of melancholy is truly a
treacherous and unfortunate place to be:
The world is better off, without it.
Kind Regards 2019
*This story is derived from a series of books called “A Series Of Unfortunate Events”, by one Lemony Snicket. There are a plethora of large words worthy of describing the series, none of which I will use here.*