Missa Pro DefunctorisbyNigel Debonnaire©
Rest, my friend, my heart is empty without you,
I am your soul mate:
taking on Darkness
so you may have Light.
I stand here as always
ready to do my part
as I've always done,
will always do.
The sacred halls of Memory stretch on behind me,
echoing your laughter,
glimmering in your light.
My feet long to turn around,
reverse my course
and stay there.
I do not only mourn you,
I mourn me without you.
But the procession moves forward,
one less pilgrim in the ranks.
Carrying my candle,
I have no other choice
Trumpets calling through Eternity,
sound today from every corner of the globe,
calling the grinning Rambo Jesus
with blood soaked hands
to blast Evil from the world
and send heaps of steaming, mangled malefactors
to the fires below.
The sign in front of me is not a warrior:
a body fixed against its will, powerless,
crushed and degraded
ready to be carried
but spoiling the ending
by coming back from beyond Hope.
My vision of The End is this battle:
Armies of sullen rainclouds
washing clean a world
too tired to grow weeds,
washing away all the blood soaked rot
until the First Garden returns
in Eternal Flowers.
Freedom is a hollow gift
when the choice wished
Anything is possible,
except going back.
You are free, forever free,
I wish I were buried instead of you.
The years hang heavy:
every step of my life
aches from the soles of my feet
to my shoulders;
every string of my heart
vibrates free of its soundboard,
the whipping released sharpened points
random shrapnel stinging again and again.
I envy your freedom from this weight,
from this pain of living,
from this emptiness
you have felt
on losing your past loves.
Free me from this chaos,
from this bedlam of cacophony
of mangled dreams,
clear the air of lamentation
for lost hopes,
Free me to hear the sweet music
of the heavenly spheres.
I don't know if my prayers can help you,
but it's the only way I can sing to you now.
I need to pray
because I need to pray:
to offer you my love and help
in hope you will hear it
and it will help.
Gladly, I would bulldoze every bump and rut,
knock down the gates of Heaven,
sucker punch St. Peter himself
to get you in.
That's not an issue, it's a given.
Take my blessings as you sail beyond the stars,
as you reach our Home,
our Father's house;
let everyone you've loved welcome you,
let everyone you've hurt heal you,
let everyone you've hated forgive you.
Let go of me and my useless love
as you find better,
forget the darkness of this world
remembering only its joy,
and pray I may follow you