By: Monica I Castro
Sing me a song of silver let
It flow gracefully in the wind
A thousand pent up memories
Like penchants strung on a whim
Whispers ripple through each moment
Cool rings that burn leaving no trace
True fire need not mark each sin
Executer, please, you need not linger still
Remembrance pierces the dark, forcing me to stumble
A rage it wields like daggers, a fury forged from spite
It saps my strength, binds my will, and
Pries all but misery from my trembling hands
Every moment is a battle, each breath a gasp
Time was once my battle ground and
Yet now it is my prison
There is no home left to bargain
True hope can only come from within
So take this empty shadow, its strength so paper thin
Forgive this ghost that echoes
And let my slate be wiped clean