The timer runs out when you're hoping it lasts.
Walk out the door when you want to stay.
Staying silent with a hundred words to say.
Mourning goodbyes and a heart full of gaffe.
Push through the rampart that guards
break the fences down, one by one.
The fractures strengthen the fear.
Silence your cries with a hand so unsound.
The fissures shining through the abrade.
Lucid are the thoughts that makes way
through the sun ablaze.
Framed enprint with smiles intact,
a memory so faint yet the pain evident
like a bequeath left for us to mourn over.
A facsimile so valuable yet so threadbare.
Faint hinges that holds it all up,
crushed under the delicacy of the moment
that kept me bare.
While the memories wash this shore
unabated to this very day.
Standing tall like a proud barricade
with its head up high
falling for no one in sight.
Blinded by the lustre it flaunts.
Yet the day still stays beneath the sky so high
a sequence so familiar yet so foreign.
To relive the day where it all began
the "walk down memory lane" thats overruled
by the stewards of time.
The glory days were reminisced
while the dark ones lay buried.
The charade basks the truth
shadow looms over its ossein.
A pygmy it remains at the end of the day
meagre in all the hands it passed.
The puzzles are fragmented
and so are the people.
~si
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PoetryM O N A C H O P S I S the persistent feeling that you're out of place or don't belong. A collection of poems.
