these thoughts sit upon a prickly throne
uncomfortable, unsteady-
full of insecure reason as memories
shade the past with hues of gray
bestowed with a crown of disbelief
and touched with lunacy
these pitiful thoughts demand attention
as rabid emotion kneels in disdain
i have nothing left within me
to move forward
my head is swimming in images of the past
and my heart, cowers in the corner..
I am desolate, if that’s a word that can be used
to describe the utter lack of anything
that from me, slowly broods
I am nothing.. can’t you see that?
I am but a bird, lonesome, with a
broken wing… left behind
rewind… wait… did i leave or did you leave me?
I am so confused…
sinking down now, into what’s left of my
mind, i sigh… because there is nothing
left within me, but sorrow….
slow velvet rumbles of thunder
glide away- as raindrops fall
upon this windowpane…
water splashes onto the floor
and tilted waves of windswept rain
beat upon the door…
my heart, can simply take no more!
the sounds lingering behind this storm
harken back to a time long past-
the stained taste of love, betrayed,
remains upon my lips- like a kiss…
oh! wishing for the sun again
the falling rain makes musty
this garden of memory…
red ribboned pigtails and swing sets
tossed in the wet flowing breeze-
blow back softly in my mind
moments free from constraint
flow with thunder as it rolls by;
tulips in galoshes skip upon slate,
until grass swallows up the path
leading through lost halls of time
songs of adoration echo
within clouds that darken the sky;
sweet and fanciful worship on wings
shelter in tree’s canopy, as constant sheets
of water fall, silencing the pain inside
just simply natural falling rain
dripping memories into eternity
the SIBYL'S SONG 