Before I watch it pass away
I'll gather up, this dying day,
to tend, with tenderness, its grave,
for which, a poppy, I will save.
This crumb of comfort I’ll compress.
Locked up inside a flower press,
immortalised, this dying day,
will live when it has passed away!
And when its sombre sun has set,
this remnant of a raw regret,
I'll bury, in my book of death,
to breathe its final, bitter breath.
-
Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 22nd, 2021 05:16
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 43
Offline)
Comments1
'This crumb of comfort I’ll compress.'
these line and the image you paired with your write - combine
to birth an impactful metaphor, that's so innately relatable..
simply Brilliant! such a great read
Thank you, LB. Sometimes, I feel that life will never get any better than it is on a certain day, and I just want to somehow save that day from dying and passing into oblivion...
yup, I so relate my friend:
'memory, do not fail at this last hurdle
if all else dissipates
to that realm where yesterday's
are not, but fragmented shadows
of all that we once, yearned-for
have mercy on this few mementos
let them guide my despairing shell
to that last hurrah: of treasured breathe'
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