“… Passus sub Pontio Pilato, crucifixus, mortus et sepultus, decendit at infernos …”
Credo
This was
A spectacular funeral
Not like my brother's
I burried
Our love
(Sorry, my love to you - I keep forgetting)
Into and deep inside
The perlic and foamy
Waters
of Daventry's reservoir
Not into a cheap
Plastic tub
Like I did
To my brother's ashes
The Ashes of my
"Life's Last True Love"
Were majestically
Submarged into that
Shroud of a silver lake
With the waves of gold
And crimson
Ebbed away
And reflected
"The feria" of
A spectacular sunset
Truly Royal Funeral scenery
That was
And the birds
Synphonied
Their cacophonic
Requiems
And the moon
Shined straight into my face
In focal point of Heaven
Looking like a Chief Funeral Director
Of Eternal Undertakers
With a perfectly shaped curvature
As in the sales adverts
Of Sofas and Beds store...
And I sentimented it all
Playing "Never enough"
And I cried real tears
Whining loud
Louder than I did
For my brother
I was moved almost as much
As I always was
Watching a good
Hollywood romantic movie
...
They call funerals
Consolation
This didn't aliviate
my wounded soul
I know
I will go now
To Hell
And I am prepared
Had some time
In my life to reach that point
But Are You?
Because you won't
Have an easy life
Choosing your own crosses
So unwisely
Chosing crucifictions
For the sake of a thrill
As I have done
Always
And I know
You're not ready
And it burdens me
A lot...
But I will go through
My personal hell
With the Hope
of Ressuraction
Of kind
As That was promised
If you're a beliver.
And I believe in You
Still
I hope
You will rise
Somehow
Someday
With somebody
I hope and believe
Cause I love ...
And Love always wins
They say