I wrote this for a friend I tried to save but didn't succeed. He's now resting with the Angels..... From my book Tea, Toast and Tears for Breakfast.
Empty Hours
If time drifted like swirling smoke
into the empty hours of a lifeless sky
If time vanished from a petal like early morning dew
Would anyone notice
Least of all you?
If in silence my shadow walked past you
wearing the shoes of the dead
far from old roads travelled
Would my weary feet dance
Through the flames of burning, ragged pages of my life
Would a new day rise?
Who would mourn
the passing of the ages?
If a storm should break
the spine of a man
Could a man find the strength to hold onto
that upon which he believed was real?
For a man cannot live
in the broken dreams of yesterday
For he cries for the roses
and dies for the thorns
Scarlet is his passion
that will never fade
Until
with no mercy he abandons his soul
And his spirit shatters with his ashes
Beneath the scars of forgotten sunsets
Who in the evermore of darkness
will hear screams of pity
and recognise the disguise of Insanity?
Who will turn without fear
to the invasion of mind?
Who will march hand in hand
with the lepers of Mercy?
Who's final breathe
Betrayed the echo of a Princes trumpet?
Who will sleep with sadness dancing
around the mystery of a secret moon?
Who's arms wrap
around the sorrow of memory?
Who's head lay upon
Pillows of self hate?
Where are the jealous eyes you desire
staring at your naked shoulder?
Who is afraid of daylight calling?
When will peace be granted resurrection
from a velvet shrine?
Who swore forever
Love be mine?
Who's heart has been stolen
Broken and forsaken
Once more?
Who let the Mistress of death
step out through the door
Steal away and starve your salvation?
Struggle in death
from a tide that never reaches
Eternity's shore
Those who have touched you
would rather forget you
For they love you no more
As your soul is swallowed
devoured
Your final destination
Your Destiny
Your aftermath is waiting
Beckoning you
A sailor on a drunken ocean
drifting silently
toward a new horizon
And the pregnant seas of time
will fill your belly with new life
And from empty hours
Old years are born
And from the oceans
ships are torn
And for old dreams
a soul shall mourn
and on the horizon
a day is born............
Empty Hours
Dear Phil ~
It took a lot for you to process your friend's death and your unsuccessful attempts to save him, but it looks like this poem, probably amongst many others or attempts, helped you through it, and back into where you could feel hope again.
I like the name of your book very much.
~ Elizabeth
It took a lot for you to process your friend's death and your unsuccessful attempts to save him, but it looks like this poem, probably amongst many others or attempts, helped you through it, and back into where you could feel hope again.
I like the name of your book very much.
~ Elizabeth