Take this, battered and bloody the way
all icons tend to be, to the grave
as that is your destination, mon amie,
not by my hand but that which
cradles kidney and intestine alike.

You took a step too close to the
fence, that electrified barrier so tantalising
it commands all betters to stride
through it into a greenery brighter
and warmer than any hill may bear fruit.

This is the last moments and I envy,
yes, I wish I were courageous enough to
take your sweaty, clammy, palm and join
you, pass through this digital haze
and onwards further into the
next stage of our consciousness, but,
but, I am too much of a coward,
and the riches are still fulfilling.