Left Behind

You've told me that you're leaving me next year,
you're off to warmer climes pursuing love
of knowledge that is purer and more dear
than any we possess, so push to shove
it comes and your decision's firmly made.
I can't come out and fault you for the choice,
I see the logic clearly in the shade
beneath this weeping willow where my voice
that once roared out in orgiastic glee
is now the axle of a wheel of silence
where soughing lonely wind must speak for me
in stillness far more dangerous than violence.
I wish you well, yet in my heart's dark core
I dream of ending all your hopes, and more.