All That's Left

A Memory of Pinpricks

I am within my grasp,
A touch around an unseen corner;
A heart that rapidly beats inside.
I am an unknown being
That rests in a well of darkness,
Waiting to be found,
To love and be loved,
To know of things once locked away.
The years dredge upon my soul
While I am yet in my youth,
Hinting at some lost age
That once encircled me in a robe of pure whiteness.
The feathers of memory brush past my skin,
Giving a ghost of what was there before.
Still, the pinprick of light
Is steadily growing in the recesses of my heart,
And uncertainty is fading slowly,
Like the tide under the moon.
It will flood my body again and again,
Always receding,
In tune with the struggles of my life
Until the day I close my eyes for the last sleep.
Then, all that I am
Shall follow the pinprick home.