Tag Archives: forget

The False Comfort of Drowning

Under water all her breathing
Isn’t impossible as it seems. Rings
Out echos from the sown
Unknown borne of the abyssal below.
Then once more to the darkened spires,
Her climb, her flight, her pain inspired.
Descent is this? To the depths?
Sorting through what memory’s kept.
Constantly trying to change inside:
The past; it’s long been fossilized.
So full of sorrow and full of stone,
She discards strength for gills so,
She hopes not for the surface and here,
At the bottom of the ocean it’s quite clear,
That she will never rise again unless,
She can rise to the surface and above this test.

Todays Shadow

So often asleep,
I awake, unaware of
How many days pass.

My mind is tired,
Won’t try to remember why
In todays shadow.

Stress

image

Involuntary,
Purge of short-term memory.
Don’t know why I’m stressed.

Mnemonic

So long, forever gone.
Mnemonic for yesterday…
Also forgotten.

There is a Whisper

image

There is a whisper before the dawn
That she has known of all along.
In the silence beside this song,
Is a subtle, prodding, call.
Can she forget it all?
Does she possess desire to recall?
Among the questions, her wandering eye.
She doesn’t really want to die.
Looking for hope in the brightening sky,
Hope being her faiths reward.
A ship to the future she’s aboard.
Shadows in her mind no longer can afford
The lease upon her soul.
Her heart, no longer cold,
On a brighter day she’ll grow old.

Writing on the Wall

Death_to_stock_photography_farm_9

All of the dark memories on the wall
Tell of a story long past, she cannot.
She has seen the pieces and watched them fall,
She’s jealous of those able, who forgot.
Want for tokens unwanted, expired.
Seeking ways to leave the past to the past,
This mausoleum she would retire,
Were these memories from her mind not cast.
She sees the hand, on the wall is writing,
Taken as inevitable and bad.
With these thoughts she is constantly fighting,
She lost. Her life eternal isn’t sad.
Were I to disagree, some would concur,
Though who’s to say the writing was for her?

In the Wake of the Profane

image

In the wake of the profane,
Clouds were darkened, skies were grey.
The price she paid, the cost was pain.
When time wasted the day away.
Lost minutes and hours, lost moments,
They are the waters of this sea, and
Vast is this ocean oblivion blows in.
Beneath these waves, cast so much she,
Can hardly remember anything.
Having followed the profane,
Now left bits and scraps not sane.
One of her many rewards: regret.
The reason why, not remembering,
She succeeded to forget.