A world far off of light and merry glees,
Where no shine dares intrude -
Not even the moon in her most wretched hours of weary struggle,
Her constant, inescapable pain.
Time does not bring relief, only savage rains,
Bitter needles stabbing each path, each memory lane.
Here, every visitor, if they dare, must tread
These treacherous lands,
Few would survive to recount this restless world,
The moon's ancient hands cradling her buried woes,
Only few flow like the stream, blow like the wind,
Sing like the birds to pass the haunted corridors of memory lane.
How much can the heart endure, and not, shattering, fall?
Is it Time's withered branch,
Splitting from the fresh root of dreams along every haunted memory?
Such storms and strife and stress,
Lost in a wilderness void of light and merry glees,
Groping, grasping for an exit beyond the screams of pain,
Down,
down,
down the relentless path of memory.
A dimly lurking dream, night encompasses pain,
Day veils itself in twilight, slinking down
The darkened path of memory lane.
- Memory Lane
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YOU ARE READING
the words I kept
Poetry"𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓱..." these are the feelings I carried with me, thoughts I held back, scars I hid, and all the words I kept; my friend and my foe. Warning: some may be triggering, dis...
