Strength

| Filed under

Contributor: Robin Goodfellow

- -
Eroded buildings sleep upon vain memories, though scorching warmth cascades from poisonous air. Sirens silently plead for pain undone, all the while writing within pages of neglect, shadows etched into the words. Crimson caresses callous white, as it quietly watches dreams course by, like a child curiously reflecting the world around it, or a lullaby mesmerized by its demonic
symphonies.

Time marches along moral boundaries, and keeps going after everything’s been said and done, after every insult under the sun had finally relinquished its self-control. Until emotions are rung out good and dry, the human heart evanescent in bittersweet
melodies.

Families and friends, lovers and beloveds, heroes and the forgotten. I see tears fall, wracked against wrangled, lifeless bodies. Unanswered prayers,all the while screaming why why why why why why,
echoing silently against my mind. I see them all, sitting around an icy hearth, serenity adorning them.

Hearts torn asunder, with crestfallen faces
staring down the same destruction; innocent
breaths stolen, empty cradles with empty dreams in the emotionless fray.

But they ask for more.

Always for more.

Kept hoping, though hopeless cries resound against the air.
Kept fighting, though they’ve been trampled beneath their society over and over again.
Kept loving, though they’ve stitched their already beaten down hearts many times over.

I love you. Don’t go. Please stay. Once long ago. Discipline. Do your homework. Take out the trash. Kiss me. Hug me. Tuck me in and say goodnight. Love. Cherish. Sorrow. Anger. Contentment.

And as I stand, I see their fallen, weary souls.

But those still souls come to me, smiles upon their faces, as they kiss their loved ones goodbye. As they fade with their mercies in hand, the angels calling them home.

I turn away, just as they vanish. I linger near their loved ones, before closing my eyes.

I love them, those unanswered prayers.

I love them.


- - -

Archives

Powered by Blogger.