Post by LonelyForsaken on May 1, 2011 2:15:35 GMT -5
How to Live
I dreamt I was a corpse.
Dressed in sodden rags and stinking of death.
Grieving for a life not lived.
Buried under the soil of regret.
Bolting awake I run to the mirror.
Sallow and dried like the corpse of my dream.
What? Who am I? Where is this?
I stumble through the streets and alleyways.
All the while a soft whisper echoing in my mind;
“Find what you have forgotten.”
All avoid my approach.
Plying warding signs with their hands or
holding talismans before them like shields.
Faces twisted with fear and revulsion.
I know not what has happened to me.
My memory, full of holes and murky,
comes in flashes of agony and despair,
torturous glimpses promising answers.
Answers, I’m no longer sure I want to know.
Setting aside the painful path of memory;
there is still this voice to answer.
Hounding me ceaselessly;
“Find what you have forgotten.”
Shouting at all within range;
“What have I forgotten?”
The ranting of the deranged.
As more and more is forgotten.
How to live 2
Leafless oaks dot this grassy cemetery.
A low wall of stones designates out from within.
Headstones in rows line the paths I walk
on this moonless night the wind howls.
It howls of urgency, like my soul.
Pushing on is all either of us remembers.
As I move through this place, reading names and reminders.
Reminders of who once inhabited these hallowed husks.
Husks that now lay quietly rotting in worm infested earth.
Gently brushing each marker - finger tips on cold stone.
A meager connection - Ethereal.
I push on to the next and the next and the next.
I look among these empty holes for friends.
Forsaken by life I search among death.
I have forgotten all and no one, not even the dead,
volunteer a word, a glance, a sigh… a memory.
In desperate need I scream;
“Rise my friends. Rise this night and remember.
Remember what once was, what we once shared.
Rise and walk, walk with me and we can remember…
Together…”
…
But no one hears. The dead have no ears.
We have no memories, just empty rot.
Forsaken here as I am everywhere
I move on,
to the next and the next and the next.
I can walk. I do breathe.
My ears hear the wind in the trees.
But I am as dead as these empty husks.
I remember nothing.
I know I am like them,
for the first thing the dead forget,
is how to live.
The wind howls through leafless trees…
Fingers brush lifeless stone…
To the next and the next and the next…
Each one forgotten before...
TheLonelyForsaken
I dreamt I was a corpse.
Dressed in sodden rags and stinking of death.
Grieving for a life not lived.
Buried under the soil of regret.
Bolting awake I run to the mirror.
Sallow and dried like the corpse of my dream.
What? Who am I? Where is this?
I stumble through the streets and alleyways.
All the while a soft whisper echoing in my mind;
“Find what you have forgotten.”
All avoid my approach.
Plying warding signs with their hands or
holding talismans before them like shields.
Faces twisted with fear and revulsion.
I know not what has happened to me.
My memory, full of holes and murky,
comes in flashes of agony and despair,
torturous glimpses promising answers.
Answers, I’m no longer sure I want to know.
Setting aside the painful path of memory;
there is still this voice to answer.
Hounding me ceaselessly;
“Find what you have forgotten.”
Shouting at all within range;
“What have I forgotten?”
The ranting of the deranged.
As more and more is forgotten.
How to live 2
Leafless oaks dot this grassy cemetery.
A low wall of stones designates out from within.
Headstones in rows line the paths I walk
on this moonless night the wind howls.
It howls of urgency, like my soul.
Pushing on is all either of us remembers.
As I move through this place, reading names and reminders.
Reminders of who once inhabited these hallowed husks.
Husks that now lay quietly rotting in worm infested earth.
Gently brushing each marker - finger tips on cold stone.
A meager connection - Ethereal.
I push on to the next and the next and the next.
I look among these empty holes for friends.
Forsaken by life I search among death.
I have forgotten all and no one, not even the dead,
volunteer a word, a glance, a sigh… a memory.
In desperate need I scream;
“Rise my friends. Rise this night and remember.
Remember what once was, what we once shared.
Rise and walk, walk with me and we can remember…
Together…”
…
But no one hears. The dead have no ears.
We have no memories, just empty rot.
Forsaken here as I am everywhere
I move on,
to the next and the next and the next.
I can walk. I do breathe.
My ears hear the wind in the trees.
But I am as dead as these empty husks.
I remember nothing.
I know I am like them,
for the first thing the dead forget,
is how to live.
The wind howls through leafless trees…
Fingers brush lifeless stone…
To the next and the next and the next…
Each one forgotten before...
TheLonelyForsaken