The story will die with us

The story you’ve kept secret all these years
Dies with you
Caught on the tongue
Stung on your heart
Like a bee
I talk to myself
All I am left with a voice and story I can’t say
I pray I will meet you to talk to you in person
but our fears have worsened
You are a part of me that never goes away
It is our story that sticks in my throat
Like a bone
I am cold and alone
naked without the story we fashioned
Ashened and sack clothed
In my jaws of justice
I can’t say how I feel
I kneel at the gates of heaven
or hades
hoping that the trees will shade me
I talk to their branches and leaves
but does any one truly believe?
I was a messenger once
Cursed to talk of love
But never know
What it means
Even in my dreams
I cannot grasp a sense of success
if my story’s true
Then the colours of the rainbow belong to me and you
and I am your guardian.