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At The Table Of The Styx

from Post​-​Empire by Will Stratton

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At The Table of the Styx

Are you the sun, or are you the moon?
Shall I speak or is it too soon?
When you take all the blankets when we sleep
Am I the watchman at our keep,
Or does anything matter to you?
When you're down in sleep's dark bliss
Do I play you with a kiss
Or does it all fall on deaf skin
When I'm awake and you're all in
At the table of the Styx?
Do I place a coin in your mouth
As you murmur, drifting south
Like Ophelia at the end
Or Elaine all wrapped in linen
Or do I lie and try to rest
With an arm under your neck
What good is stillness when you're gone?
At least I can hum a song
Why would I ever lie
Would it be just to find myself beside you
A dream half-dead?
How could I ever live
With the blood of a half-formed bird upon me,
Draped on my head?
How could I?
The light, it asks to peer through
So we've survived another day
How could I nigh deceive you?
When I'm just a broken knave?
How could I?

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from Post​-​Empire, released March 20, 2012

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Will Stratton Beacon, New York

Management: Simon and Abbey Raymonde (bellaunionmgmt@gmail.com)

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