Category: Writers Block
A Stitch in Time
)2-20-07
Dreams redeemed in the early morning,
the echo of some memory newly born.
Meandering paths in a forest of black,
layers of emerald to confuse the eye,
all products of a sacred shrine.
Demons I adore from a dawn long past,
verses and melodies seldom surfacing to light.
Dare I resew the stitches once so keenly done?
Dare I gaze once more upon that hallowed place?
The echoes ensnare me.
Hissing that which I have come to fear.
And I recede into that melee,
for there is no other course.
And the learnid mind sighs.
The haunted eyes gaze serenely once more.
For the maze meanders endlessly
and time is but a provisional remedy.
And the dream is redeemed in the early morning
when the darkness draws to a close.
"and time is but a provisional remedy."
I like that.
Good to see you posting your writings again.
good
good
I especially like the stanza that reads:
"The echoes ensnare me.
Hissing that which I have come to fear.
And I recede into that melee,
for there is no other course."
Really frightening, reminiscent of a dream.
Bob