a year full of life

what's in my kingdom?

of broken vines
with fruitless blossoms.
destroyed ancient ruins
with no signs of past life left anywhere.
you ask me what is in my kingdom?
a simple question,
you assumed to garner a simple response,
but that would be letting you off
far too easily.
for when you walked away,
you hadn't realized
that the ground screamed for your return
and the trees ached for your presence
every waking moment that your hand
wasn't carved into mine.
and when the sun fell
deep into the burning sea, every night,
the moon sobbed in misery -
for she didn't know how to cope
with the loss of your warmth.
the only loss she had ever known
was from the loss of heat she felt
when the sun left and she rose,
and that was far more bearable
than your lack of presence
- your lack of searing, sun like love -
so when you ask me
what my kingdom looks like,
i hope you don't feel too surprised
when i say you took it with you
the day you left me.