How do you douse a memory
from the abyss of misery,
to rub off a solacing fragrance
that puts the unruly to sleep?
How do you put back the silver roses
that were foolishly plucked,
for a dream that was prayed
but absurd in reality?
How do you cease the ghost
that nurses the echoes of agony;
a sickening worm crawling,
eating its way deep?
Thine own heart's winter is endless,
trapped in a blizzard of its tears,
and oblivion is what's left
for your anguish and fears.
A powerful poem, Daryl. Nicely written. Time is our only friend in such cases. Seldom does it erase, but it can dull Thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Piece of great elegance, well articulated, nicely encapsulated and insightfully penned in poetic diction with conviction. A lovely depiction of life at its lowest ebb. Thanks for sharing Daryl. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.