The evening sky fades into shadowed pink,
Immersing us in its melancholic luster.
Again the silence of the dying day.
Again the echoes of yesterday.
Memories often render an illusion
Of retreating quietly, like waves,
Into the distant confines of your hustling mind.
You let the thrust of time conquer the ocean of life.
Not for long this false stupor of time's healing.
For the scars continue to burn you in silence.
An overwhelming passage of remembrance leads you there.
The charging waves of seeming eternity,
The swelling tide of seething misery.
This then, the fabric of searing loss,
Chafing at your insides tonight.
Like every other desolate night.
As if, the slightest touch of warmth,
And you might melt into the disappearing light.
No comments:
Post a Comment