Thursday, May 7, 2009

MEMORIES
Memory is nothing more than the past's transluscent ghost,
And yet memories are also things I hate the very most.
For memories bring back tears that, never again, should fall.

I often go back inside the cavern of my mind
Trying hard to remember what I've left behind
But sometimes I wish I couldn't remember at all.

Some shine as clear as crystal, sending waves of fear and dread
And some are thin as smoke -- like a fog inside my head.
For some reason, it's the happy ones that I cannot perceive.
These tiny glints of feeling give me reason to believe
It's the memories you have that show the past is never dead.

I see into the past... back to that blessed place
I see a special moment... see a blessed face
And I wish with all my heart to be back there.
Back to the arms of home, and its vague, but sweet carress.
I try to forget it, but I see it nonetheless.
I can't help but reminisce and say a prayer.

I pray I'll see that day again, the hope we'll reunite,
For the pictures in my head to be focused, clear, and bright.
And all amongst the agonies, regret, remorse, and pain,
With every happy memory, a hint of hope remains.
It's the hope of the future that, in this tunnel, shines a light.

And maybe I won't ever see those images I save
And I'll live my life just wishing, and trying to be brave.
Perhaps I'll see that face once more when I have passed through death.
It's for those wondrous moments that I'd give my every breath.
It's the memories I keep that help me not fear the grave.


THIS PLACE

Just one day inside this place
Brings smiles of joy across my face.
For it is here I found a trace
of something goodlike old, dark wood
And now I've learned to love this space.

Every corner, every wall
I can anticipate your call
and though you're often not there at all
I hear your voice
Like soft white noise
Echoing in every hall.

It seems you're in this air I breathe:
The atmosphere I must not leave.
These toxins oft make me believe
You're not away
You're here to stay
Your arms around me like a wreath.

The ground I place my feet upon
Is ground you've graced for oh, so long,
And though I know that you are gone
Your soul is there
In ever chair
In every voice, I hear your song.

And when I leave this memory here
And the pictures grow unclear,
I hope your face shall still appear
Within my dreams
On moonlit beams
And in my heart be always near.

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