One man,…… one man alone stalks the night.
Away from ammonic terraces and hallways
Away from monotonous gestures of people that once knew the clouds
Faltered and unseen this man walks through streets known and never seen
the rain caresses his face, trembling along his jaw line but failing to replace his tears. Following the yellow painted lines to the long lost graveyards of the unknown he finds himself longing for that simple caress of the water to be replaced with her hand.
The mother, sister, lover that he left to cry in her simple corner of solemn
Willows kiss his brow while he lingers silently into his cookie crisp suburban legends to remember the dead.
Soon finding himself waltzing in the local graveyard, midnight long forgotten and the rising sun as good as a myth.
To waltz among the living is the only solace to be found in the glory of his death, the remnance of love’s memories are far but forgotten.
Yet bodies stolen by stone pallets distill the meaning, but at the same amplify the roses left for the memories.
To lie and follow the dead is his only chance for freedom, his only solace for pain.
As quick as the tides turn the sun rose without warning, showing the waking world this
man of old.
this man who was forgotten and will soon fade as surely as our waking dreams.
