Saturday, 3 November 2012

Beautiful - (Poem)


He, of the beautiful face and voice
he has grown too.
The melting point - memory and muse, fuse
those dark days, when danger and death
were ever so close, engaged in a duet
And now, looking back,
through the maze
in a haze,
all alone to make sense of what’s left.
His song still enchants, his sounds still enhance
the dance of life and the living
He, our idol, still around, still so fine,
yet alone, bereft of his bass
Genuine and true, feeling blue, I have no clue
Like a ghost, with no grave, with no rest
I pull back,
sense the lack,
Stability gone, undone at the seams
He, like me, is aware but can’t see
Past emotions weren’t always the best.

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