Mind Series VII: Embers


EMBERS

The embers of an old life struggle to burn
My baby self plays nearby oblivious to the dangers inherent
Floating through this scene
I can neither scream nor touch to convey my thoughts
In the last glows of the fire
Are scenes I wish I could go over once more
To redo as I see fit
In a blink I pass through
Just another metaphoric memory
In these last few hours all my moment are filled with these flashes
Soon these dusty grounds will fall silent
These hills and morning mists will no longer echo with our young cries to God
The shrill whistles will fall silent
To gather dust till the next time
The lights that beckoned over the hill crest will be out
Pulled out of their sockets
A past life of glitz forgotten
When it’s light gave shadows to the white silhouettes
The heat, smoke and din of music forgotten
These market stalls will fall dead silent
A ghost town for a time
Swept clean of any footprint
Of the sane, the drunk, the merchants and the buyers
A clean slate of earth waiting for fresh sweat
A thirst that time will fulfil
As I imagine my footsteps out of here
What will be my thoughts as I pass these grey beaten walls
A confine forced, to show patriotism and loyalty
To a society that rejects all who have no name or power

image courtesy Wikipedia

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