Shards of icicles fall thick and fast.
Stabbing and tearing apart
The blurred smoke of hazy memories.
Shadows, whispers, echoes, name-calling, laughter.
Remember. What is it to do so?
Is it to reminiscence, re-live, partake in blessed nostalgia?
Or is it maybe drowning in self-indulgent melancholy
For all that is now past, lost and gone?
Doors close, paths forge, leaves fall, new windows open.
Do I want to stay? leave? not move?
Cynicism and mistrust cling to my thoughts and actions
Like leeches they seep into my very being.
Acrimonious contagion this mute introspection.
A shriek, a yell, a cry of some remnants of sane triviality.
Or a religion, a faith, a sense of belonging even.
Anything to shut out the mirthless satan in me.
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