Sunday 8 May 2011

The Ruins of my life

Sing a song for sorrow. tell me of its woes.
Play the notes of tomorrow. as this world breaks my bones.
Cry your tears into the ashes of the sodden fire.
Sitting alone in the rain atop the funeral pyre.

Thinking of a day lost somewhere in my past.
Staring at the bottom of half forgotten glass.
Lost in memories that never seem to fade.
Close my eyes and pray it goes away.

I walk among the remains of a burned out home.
Charred wood and bits of broken stone.
Broken glass and memories line the floor.
Whatever joy it once knew remains no more.

Inside a overgrown Wall there lies a wayward garden.
There remains no beauty here for me to behold
Path is strewn with snakes the skies dark with crows.
near a headless Figure there stands a blackened rose

The rose is withered its petals have died.
Thorns once clean are soaked in blood.
Clean water once its home now dark with filth.
Gentle breeze no longer blows but cruel winds.
Its roots once so deep in the earth now lie dead.

Like me its time is no more.
DUFAN ZEKA

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