Widow’s Cup

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Widows Cup


You drink from Widow’s Cup, always on the cusp of real love.
You hide from shadow’s fire, always in desire for real love.


Once I felt I understood, like hands laid soft on a box of wood built from summer pine…
My visions fade from black to red while a spirit haunts this empty bed from time to time…
This bone cannot be set, this choice I can’t regret (and I feel the love).
Now time won’t own me, the mind’s for the lonely (so I drink it up)


Someday these hands will shake, but this heart won’t feel the break from knowing love.
As your ghost before me fades, I know I feel know shame in knowing love.


In these hours of empty rest, there is no stone within my chest, no wounds to heal.
I have no fear, I have no pride- “there is no dark where there is no light!” I long to feel.


And this bone could not be set, this choice I could regret (but I feel the love)
Now time won’t own me, the mind’s for the lonely (so I drink it up)


Press the cup to my lip, and hope that you are with me still…

Widow's Cup

The lonely widow and her heavy mind. Like an endless brook, the ghost of her love drifted through her mind at all times. Her heart, heavy with sadness, felt as though with every beat it might shatter. One day, as she walked the road to town as she had done countless times with her husband, she came across a strange man. "My dear, you look lifeless and burdened," the man observed. "Surely you can take a moment and see my wares. I have many remedies for life's thorns..." The widow glanced at the items placed upon the table. Immediately, her eye was fixed to a beautiful, golden cup. "Ah! This cup is the answer to your sorrows, my dear." The man held the cup so it glistened in the sun. "One sip from its rim and all the memories you possess will vanish until the final day of your life." "Imagine," the man continued, "a new life starting today- no anchors bound to your heart. And what's better, upon your deathbed, what shall visit you before the Reaper himself, but your former life restored." The notion brought tears of joy to the widow's eyes. What blessing it would be to live the rest of her days carefree and full of life. And what a comfort to know that her memories would return to her right at the moment they were most important. Still, she could not shake the ominous nature of the strange man. But her grief overcame her mind and she sipped the contents of the cup...

Many winters came to pass, and the widow lived happily, though somewhat empty. She knew many loves, though none seemed to leave a mark on her heart. She did not know why. She did feel, however, that with every passing day she was getting closer to unlocking something in her mind. Something of great value, and this coming tide alone provided her great solace in her years. Finally, the day came when her bones were weary and the light in her eye was starting to fade. She laid upon her deathbed, anticipating the flood of memories from the time when her heart was most full, but the memories did not come. Like her body, her mind had grown too frail. With empty mind, she realized as the night grew dark, that she longed for her sadness and cursed the stranger who had stolen her heart.