He was not here when I returned.

His beauty - questions overturned;

And left a hollow, empty space

Where he once stood, in my embrace.

He did not wait as I slowed down

He could not stop to help me drown

Within the rivers of that night

And in the currents of his sight.

He could not wait for me when I,

Bestowed of beauty, could not cry.

He would not see my tears abused

He would not see them overused

"Upon the graves of friends long gone,

We will not sit, but lie as one."

He was not here, when I returned.

His absence, beauty overturned.

-Artem K. Khamzin