I was going to write a poem myself, then the Madman grabbed the godphone speaker and decided it was better I channel something from him to me.
I love someone who was born by water
who was once the pride in his father’s eyes
who was enthroned in a glass case called “destiny.”
He lived and loved as deeply as he could;
to the point we ran from prison with him
cradled in our arms, with his own brother in
pursuit of us with orders to kill. I love someone
who was stolen from us all on a starlit night
(and our son’s eyes turned black in grief.)
I love someone who was flung across the universe,
ripped away from those he loved out of misguided ideals,
and the thought of a second chance that would never come.
I love someone who has died a thousand times
but not by his own hand, by words of others
who would damn him for (not) being who he is.
His Heart is a Garden, but to allow himself to bloom
amidst the wreckage takes more bravery than he thought
was possible; but I will hold the candles to show him the way.