Ben Francis

tola.me.uk

But a Memory

by Ben Francis 2002

As distant as a half forgotten dream,
Yet fondly remembered, safely kept.
Reminders lye softly in the warm glow of morning,
And the magic of a starlit black satin sky.

Birds sound their daily chorus,
echoing words once whispered by loving, smiling, youthful lips.
Soothing the scar of a dark black hole,
Where a heart once was.

The consistency of nature easing the pain,
Memories never forgotten, emotions never dulled.
The innocence of youth,
The blindness of love.

Distant now, but still lingering,
Hour after hour, day after cursed day.
The certainty of the single morbid thorn
Still remains on the unwilting rose.

But colour drains from its flesh,
Floating away on a breeze.
Off into the cold blue heart of the moon,
To rest there for an eternal waiting.

The oceans sing of their sorrow,
But the notes never fall on listening ears.
Time is slowed but moves on still.
Thoughts muddled, events blurred, helpless.

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