PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Colors seep into my floor and wash away the memory of the world. So many events faded from the oncoming and the forgetfulness of what hides between. Tadpoles from the outside irrigation system swim to the wallpaper. I hear them at night, the cries of battle over Waterloo and the initiation hymns at Dendera. I think of my place in the vessel connection ten billion lightyears away. The fireflies over Anasazi ruins, they will never come back. Never mind that, there is a priest walking on the country road after a rainstorm. This time the lies of the sky will not crush him to a grizzly demise. Upon recollection and the somberness that is only half present now. I'm not sure I care anymore about the things I love. It will remain shut away only to haunt me in moments of attempted peace.