A moonless night out of control
Shadows pouring out of their latest victims seeking for the next
To quench their endless hunger
Pillars of obsidian prisons for those shadows.
Weeping willows cry over the lost soul’s skeletons
Withered bouquets covered in dead leaves buried the dead for the second time
The forgotten dead.
Lest we forget.
Should we forget?
Those horrors
Those despicable crime
The injustices
Inked on Father Time
Their blood and bones buried
Kin eventually join
They fade
Till they are nothing but forgotten memories
Forgotten secrets
No proof they exist at all
Apart from words engraved in stone
Like the sword in the stone
Useless
Yet laced with mystery and temptation
We all get one chance
One life
This is no dress rehearsal
This is the real deal
So don't waste it
Otherwise you will the club
The Forgotten Dead
Death's Forgotten
Xavier Wildefyre
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 09/02/2020
Poet's note: This is no dress rehearsal. This our life, and we only get one. - random Hallmark movie
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Poem topics: father, life, lost, night, soul, real, chance, mystery, hunger, endless, waste, dress, control, sword, time, I love you, I miss you, forget, stone, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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