A Barely Graceful Fall

° 5 ° Sweetly Gone °

Seemingly perfect,
The storm clearing as the
Resolution appears,
All the problems in the past,
As we move
On.
Sweetly gone.

Walk away into the sunset,
Floating on water,
Wind whispering secrets
You can't make up.
Tell me that this isn't a
Dream,
Too perfect,
Too calm.
Until I'm
Sweetly gone.

Tell me why it changes,
Weather turning so quickly
It feels like a slap to the face,
Wind suddenly burning,
Rushing past, to quickly to listen,
Shouting rather than allowing words
To register slowly.
Until I'm running off the water,
Waves breaking all around,
Lighting overpowering the moon's brightness,
Thunder rivaling the wave crashes.
Sounds drumming in my mind,
Running away, becoming
Sweetly gone.

Pass over the threshold,
Trying to forget what had been seen,
Heard, cried out,
As people fell into the ocean,
Never to return,
Taken by the storm.
Anything, finding anything
To help forget,
To help demolish the memories
Paint a pristine picture of perfection in
Minds.
Ignoring the rash harshness of the
No longer innocent waters,
Receding, leaving, soon they're
Sweetly gone.

Stained red, beaches glisten in the Sun,
Remains of a bloodbath,
The storm leaving a guilty ocean,
No longer able to claim any
Innocence.
So help me forget,
As I realize that the ocean
Is not water,
But a face that burns in the back of my
Mind.
Help me forget, until all the memories are
Sweetly gone.

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Wednesday, June 8, 2016
235 words.