It's a stressed situation
in the changing of tense,
as an epilogue
is written
after a run of events

From love to loved
is a harsh distance
in life,
whether a lover
or friend,
a husband or wife

The form isn't realized
until you’re forced to accept,
that all you have left
are decisions
and regret

Subtle cues invoke
a need to reminisce,
recalling their warmth,
their laugh,
or their kiss

We embody these remnants
as prisoners to our past,
from the genesis of trouble
to the last inquiry
asked

Misery and its venom
paralyzed poise
to move on,
as poison was the victor
and reason they're gone

Anyone who's loved
wears that marker
in their soul-
a gravestone that’s visited
beyond when bells toll