Arne Bister

Lost

Lost

Recurring, a nightmare of this:
In dreams of perpetual bliss
a casual memory, taken.

A world froze when you broke the kiss,
a shadow of future amiss,
a casualty that was forsaken.

Recurring, the future reborn
of memories lost and forlorn
performing a dance with no sound.

The curtain once dropped now is torn.
The ghosts on the stage weep and mourn.
In silence no truth can be found.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Arne Bister.
Published on e-Stories.org on 07/01/2008.

 

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