My Menu in Hades
My life is bitter now or it has lost
Its flavour, maybe both, because it seems
To be a sour fruit that’s sliced and tossed
Away. It falls upon a pile of dreams
I used to have (or maybe I just guessed
Those dreams existed). It’s so hard to prove
Because I once inhabited that blessed
World you filled up for me, but now I move
Alone I cannot touch those wishes. They
Are dead and tasteless like a ghost that’s bleached
And left to hang among the martyrs, sway
And desiccate until despair is reached.
I cannot order hopes. I’ve lost command.
My heart is nibbling at the wraith-like bland.