Dark Nights and Broken Dreams

Dark nights, broken dreams. Silence kills a once sound mind. Hope did once abound, yet now hope is nowhere yet to be found. Tears flow now into rivers untold, turning the stones of time into sands unknown.

Darkness lies naked beneath the forest of time. No cover, only shame. Who pray tell should a dying soul blame? Doth this lay beneath my feet? Should I continue to fight, or shall I from this affliction retreat.

Life in itself is a loud noise in one’s mind that will never …never leave. However, the peaceful death lies only six feet down. I have cried a thousand tears. I have screamed to the heavens seeking relief, yet I only feel abandoned grief.

Thus, I find myself beneath the moonlit forest. Afraid, yet never fearful. The cool wind and the night sounds crawl like serpents into my fragile mind.
I look into the past, yet see my future begin to unwind.

No longer can I be complacent; no longer can I reach out and be kind. For living is not an easy thing and all things are to be left behind. Therefore when my day of reckoning shall come. I expect none to grieve, nor shall any weep.

For I shall be like the millions before myself who have left. I will be but a brief memory for some and become like the silent whisper on the never ending wind.

J. Allen Wilson © 6/14/2020