Wind whispers through low towers
Cluttering the ground in a
Row
Caressing souls who lay sleeping
Alone
Encased in hallowed ground gone
Cold and hard from years passed
Moss grows between
Cracks scored in stone from
Endless tears shed over
Wilted flowers left behind by weeping hearts unknown
Angels
Flit and flutter by
Gazing from above
Taking those ready by the hand
Guiding them home
Very few left behind
Those
Refusing to go
Wandering
Searching
Seeking yet never finding
Damning their own souls
Restless within this cold hollow ground
Doomed
The walking death they deny
Shedding tears upon wilted flowers
Staring in disbelief
Their name they see carved in marbled stone
Cries lost and unheard among
Winding winds
I hear them
Whispering to me around and through
Stone towers of decay
Fingertips caressing forgotten names
Strangled moss
Wilted flowers
Held in place tightly
Fed by their
Denial
Holding them in my heart
Speaking their names
Quietly weeping
Their souls wrap around my warmth
Feeding from me
Taking what they seek
Finally ready
Gazing from above
Taking them by the hand
Guiding them home
I like how you bring them to yourself so they are not forgotten names...very nice :)
ReplyDeleteWow, congrats... I think it's perfect the way u talk about the lost souls. Very very nice ;)
ReplyDeleteyou paint an amazing picture with your well described imagery. I love the idea of the souls clinging to your warmth. Well done. Your attention to detail speaks volumes in your growth as a writer... very nice!! :D
ReplyDeleteYou were so hesitant about this subject, and once again you’ve done a beautiful job. You’ve connected. You’ve gone deep. You’ve written something outside the box. The first stanza will go on the cover of this week’s Silverthorn Press issue.. #25!, and I thank you for letting me borrow it. I’m proud of my awesome writer friend ;)
ReplyDeleteI love you.
ReplyDelete