loss
‘VEGA – The Vampire King’ by Mark Hastings – Chapter Seventeen: “The Love of My Life”
My Poem “Everything to Me”
On the night after my Dad died, I ran away into the city - I wanted to lose myself within the metropolis of people, because I felt like I had lost something inside of me... on the night after my Dad died, I walked the illuminated city streets not knowing where I was going to go, nor who I was going to meet... on the night after my Dad died, I felt more alone than I had ever felt in my life... on the night after my Dad died, I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout, I wanted to cry - but, in all honesty, I could not control my emotions so instead I felt numb but as if I were walking around with a gaping wound in my chest that exposed my bleeding heart that felt like it had been repeatedly stabbed by a knife. On the night after my Dad died, I unexpectedly met some new friends who all already knew one another and who had gathered together to share a Christmas drink - and though I had never met any of them before I knew that there was something to my meeting them that seemed like someone or something wanted me to form a brand new link... on the night after my Dad died, I remember being angry at whomever or whatever had taken my Dad away from me... on the night after my Dad died, I could not believe what had happened, what I had seen - and even now, and always, I will never be able to comprehend this nightmarish new reality I am living in that I wish was just a bad dream. On the night after my Dad died - after spending most of the night talking, connecting, and intoxicated, with my new friends - I said goodbye, and then, after I somehow made my way home, I reflected upon what had happened through a mirrored torrent of tears, and I wondered what was going to happen next and who I now was - and though no clear answers came to me, I knew that my world, as I knew it, had come to an end. My Dad is always with me - I feel him around me, within me, like the glow and the feeling of some kind of perpetual spirit and light that I know is my Dad speaking to me, reaching out to me, guiding me, giving me the gift of his unending love that will always mean everything to me. -Mark Hastings 22/12/22 In memory of my Dad, David William George Hastings 6/1/1949 - 8/12/2022
My Poem “Shadow of Death”
All my footprints have gone... all my fingerprints have disappeared... all my impressions have been undone... all my loves have been lost - it is as if what happened never happened and now I am the only one who remembers or cares that I once used to be with someone, sometime, somewhere. I never used to believe in true endings until this year, and now it feel as if life is not done teaching me the lesson that I, nor anybody, has true control over what happens... I never believed that hope would abandon me - but something is telling me and showing me that the days of knowing what to do and when are out of my hands and from now on I am going to have to do more to keep the once perpetual light of optimism within me lit, because even the most intense and raging fire can be doused and can even go out for good. All my life, I took more for granted than I realised - and it is only now, that I am bereft of what and who I used to rely on, that I understand where I have been going wrong, where and when I should have done more, and made the most of moments that I thought would last for ever, but were always only temporary... all my life, I have been blessed and I have been surrounded by more that I could have ever wished or asked for; and now that things, and people, have left me I find myself wondering if, when, and how my life could make sense ever again - because I have been changed forever in ways that not even I could describe or capture in poetry. The future, to me, is now one day at a time... the past, to me, is now like somewhere I once knew that I wont see or repeat again until I reach my own version of the end... the present is dark, and even the lights I see, to me, have lost their once vibrant shine... reality, for me, has been fractured too badly for anything or anyone to be able to mend - because I will always be haunted and living under the shadow of death.
My Poem “Never See It Coming”
We all can not help ourselves from sometimes believing that everything and everyone will remain how we have always known them to be... we all can not help ourselves from sometimes taking our eyes off the road and not always paying attention to what or who is approaching us... we all can not help ourselves from sometimes taking things for granted - like a sacred tree that has stood for centuries and to its admirers it is legendary; however, then something surprising always happens, then something shocking will occur, then something, or someone, will do something so out of the ordinary and out of the realms of possibility, and the world itself can feel to some as if it has been changed irrevocably. No one can know with any certainty what will happen when they leave their homes every morning... no one can know what the waves of tomorrow will take with them, nor what they will bring... no one can know, by only using their eyes, who or what is standing right beside them... no one can know what someone is thinking and feeling when they look at you, nor what twists and turns a person will take driven by the energy of their passion. There are always plans being drawn up... there is always intention that precedes every action... there are always fragments left over following an unprecedented collapse of understanding which brings to the surface fear, loss, and uncertainty about the future... there are always people coming and going, arriving and leaving - and though we can all sometimes make ourselves and others believe that we are ready for anything, when something happens that perhaps feels as impactful and as disastrous as a star imploding and then exploding, when the time comes for us to face what we may need to face we will not know what to do, because when something of that magnitude happens we never see it coming.
‘Playing God’ by Mark Hastings (2018) – audio book: The Man in Blue – “King of the Gods”
‘Playing God’ by Mark Hastings (2018) – audio book: The Man in the Mirror – “Who Do You See?”
‘Playing God’ by Mark Hastings (2018) – audio book: The Man in White – “Flash-back”
‘The Wolf in Me’ by Mark Hastings – audio book: Chapter Four
My Poem “Always With Me”
Every day, I climb the hill to stand alongside, to speak to, and to hear the voice of my Dad - as I always have, and as I always will, because my Dad will always be the golden light that guides my way... every day, I feel like my Dad is still with me - because he is; wherever I look at a photograph of my Dad I know that he is standing alongside me, with an arm around me, as he whispers his lasting wish: "Be there for those who matter the most"... every day, when I am with my Dad the sound of birdsong can be heard all around, and often times a robin or a pair of magpies visits also and sings in a nearby tree, which always makes me smile at the same time that I start to cry... every day, I tell my Dad I love him and I miss him and I feel the touch of love from my Dad that I always felt when I looked into his eyes, when in my mind I felt our unique connection - which is why I will always remember, and why I will always reflect upon, what my Dad did for me and what he will always mean to me - and even now, every day, and forever I know more than ever that even though my Dad may now rest atop the hill, what made him who has was, who he is, and who he will always be, will always be with me wherever I go.
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