Poems of Midnight

Memory

My thoughts, they wander,

Every day.

They flit, and fly,

And go away.

The bad, the good,

The sad.

And all the others,

The mad.

There is a word,

A thought.

That comes to mind,

When distraught.

A description of stronger

Reflection.

A recollection of

Defection.

A memory held close,

Near the heart.

That cannot bear to be

Ripped apart.

Of dewy leaves,

And snow.

These things will never,

Ever go.

When young and spritely,

Old and frail.

Oh, these things will

Never fail.

But not always are they

All good.

In a bloody meadow

Stood.

A man who once, stricken

With grief.

A vengeance upon his mind,

A reprieve.

A shadow of long-

Forgotten past.

The lullaby, a song

Heard last.

The agony in remembering,

Is always there.

Nothing to dim,

No one to care.

Can you sleep at night, thinking

Of what's done?

Remembering the

Awful sun?

That once at brightest,

Filled your day,

Now weeps tears of blood,

At what's gone away?

-livesoftball11