Torture by No Torture

Tears today,
For the death
Of a whimsical heart,
No remainder
Of its blazing heat
& brilliant flame
Only smokey memories
Left to dream upon.

Left is the husk,
The body abandoned,
Lumbering without luster,
Down a dusty hall,
Lonely and stunned
Into silence,
Into reflection.

On glorious days
On glorious youth,
On glorious lust,
On glorious truth,
Into spinning,
Diving excesses,
With no thoughts
Of cost or alibi.

Now with only solitude
& oblivion
& eternity to spend,
Tortured by no torture,
Other than the memory,
Of a whimsical heart,
Now as still as the song,
Of the morning star.