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A Spectre from the Past

Coming to terms with a lost love.
Within the presence of a memory,
A spectre from the past,
I felt your fingers touching me,
They were cold against my heart,
And from a flickering tongue of candle,
That was whispering my name,
I watched your dancing shadow,
Reflect against my windowpane,

So I bury my head in my pillow,
In a vain attempt to escape,
From the misery and sorrow,
That haunts me in my sleep,
But still you veil me in your darkness,
And you infiltrate my thoughts,
As I slide further into madness,
And I slowly lose the plot.

As a scream escapes from my lungs,
Trying to break the nightmare's hold,
On memories that don't belong,
From a time I try to scold,
As I reprimand your contempt,
Of the suffering I feel,
While I try to win your consent,
To relieve me of the deal.

As we put pen to paper,
We scribbled out our names,
On a covenant to danger,
Looking back, it seems insane,
That a pocketful of kisses,
Could ever bring me to my knees,
But I failed to fill your wishes,
And you failed to forgive me.

So I stumble through my nightmares,
Trying hard to contemplate,
The reasons why I linger here,
In my sad and sorry state,
And in the memory of your exile,
The day you packed and left,
I found myself, for a little while,
Left upon the mantle shelf.

Staring at the four walls,
That hold my ceiling high,
Watching as their shadows crawl,
To creep around my mind,
With thoughts of dying embers,
Of a flame that we once shared,
Now in my madness, I remember,
You were only an affair!
By
Published: 3/20/2012
Bouquets and Brickbats