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Posted by MFish

When days were young
and nights were old,
I remember many of
the tales that were told
about the fears that lived within
and the stories of debauchery and sin.
Tales of the follies of man
faced with death, as it began.
A fear that runs up one's spine,
full of worry about a love of thine,
who lost her way.
A long trip it certainly was
and happened then, just because
she was in the wrong place.
So she was and trouble found her.
It was a bleak day; no Sun, just rain
as she related, I felt the pain,
for her shadow would never again
find her calling, in this place.
The disappointment showing on her face.
Alas my friend, away go thee,
I hope once more that I will see
your life's fulfilled destiny.

Our life is a shamble,
at least it is to me,
for we no longer talk freely.
You speak words, yes you do,
but there the same words,
that you say, over and over again.
Every few minutes you will say,
"I liked that place,
what was it called?",
not recalling anything
I'd told you before.
My patience has become strained,
as I repeat my answer again.
I do not say I told you that before.
Reminding myself, it's not
her fault, not in any way,
while I continue to see you,
slowly slipping, slipping away.

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