The Endless Consequence

Feb 28, 2026

You can find the first part of this piece here:

They ask, “Why do you do it?”

Love their passing lives,

Fleeting in an immortal’s stream,

I yearn so much for one moment,

I feel like I am not the one rotting,

Something inside still drowns for more,

So I watch, I hoard their moments,

The soft grace of mortality,

They look at me and don’t see the man…

Who has witnessed a thousand deaths.

To love is to steal,

To keep them close while they fade,

Hoping this time I will feel…

The rotten heart stakes its claim.

Each comes like a medic,

Trying to revive what always dies,

Their arms are my resuscitation,

Only for me to become the thorn,

An ending already written,

Our union, a war that became mutiny,

Leeching on your frailty…

So I can taste unity.

To love is to rot,

I am the cancer in their veins,

Leaving them as stagnant as I am…

Taking their voice with a whisper of my name.

I am a creature of happenstance,

Claiming shadows to be mine,

I drift between bittersweet romance,

Their eyes are the keepers of time,

I see now, I’m the one who rots,

Each one I stole to be mine,

Unshackled, unrestrained…

For one fleeting glimpse of you.

I am the lover and the executioner,

A feathered blade that cuts your life short,

By the cost of an immortal…

My lovers, my memento mori.

Is he addicted to them to feel?
Or is he a prisoner of hope, praying that one will stay?