In the darkened midnight hour I walked the hall of mem’ries pow’r
watching, staring whilst I pass not giving one a second glance.
As I walk I reach the end where there I find my oldest friend
I find the forgotten tome worn by the years and rot and gloam
wond’ring now why then I paus’d and wrote such things so scarred and gauzed
wretched, there upon the shelf and all, I’ve done them to myself
the night grows dimmer
I open tome, lore forgot, and peruse the things I once sought
Looking back on strife, glory, I read each line of the story.
Unseen shrapnel of the past flies new in the air, skin to gash
Current thoughts and mem’ries fresh, and feel the past and present mesh
Modern thoughts of freedom loos’d begin to shrink within a noose
of ancient tales of my soul. They stir and mix, the hall the bowl.
The night does simmer.
There the ties of pasts regrets mix within my now shaken breast
now the embers from the roof begin their fall, at first aloof
now they dazzle in my sight, dancing through the dark air of night
burning my eyes as they pass and mixing with the cold, now ash
they fall on my shaken limbs, my chest, my shoulders, gray and grim
they stick so close, unbidden, hold to my clothes, skin now risen
the night grows thinner
I brush, sweep, my fingers deep into the thought of freedom, sweep
but not a one does move its trace, and the memories interlace
with my thoughts of now and then tomorrow comes in to lend
a forc’d push against the past yet does nothing more but spread ash.
Now my brow grows damp and black, I see the pages burning back
from page to page, to the rind, the mem’ry flares up in my mind
the night does glimmer
I watch the feeling rise, fall. A shadow starting on the wall,
Mesmerized I dare not ‘scape, sifting over upright landscape,
Like a flood upon a glen. It whispers out to me again.
I watch, entranced by its flow, and see that deep within a glow.
Pulsing, glowing, it comes on. It stops and waits in front my maw.
My skin is ris’n, body shakes, my eyes watch tumultuous wakes
The night grows slimmer
It shoots and slips round my form, it falls down and grows, a dark storm,
Round my being it takes hold, round my mind it grips icy cold.
I shiver and shudder as it slips down my arms and my legs
to sit a shallow puddle, my limbs and voice do now muddle
together and twisted tight, I find no room to run to fight
I wait and see the darkness as it descends into the sameness
The night does shimmer
The shape upon the floor wrought it’s form and figure into more
Than just a shade without name, it now mirrored my own figure
I watched it move when I would, it moved like me as if it should.
I then knew what I had done. The mem’ry I’d lost was now one
the darkness in my shadow was now memory and fallow
earth of minds still eye it lay on the floor in front of me to stay
The night grows grimmer
“What are though spirit of night, upon my eyes a wretched sight!
“Begone from here, leave me be! I want to see no more of thee!”
then the shade, wrapped in my form, billows up to now stand before.
It stands, curls a drift of smoke into a simple, wry smile it spoke.
“Never will I leave thee now. Old tome of bygone days, I vow,
Should be left but was disturb’d. So I must follow you perturb’d.”
the night grows grimmer
Horror in and on me now, I stare at ghastly shade, avowed
To haunt my being and stalk me til the end of my life does walk
Up to my door to take me. I sped to run but limbs not free,
I stared and gaped at my fate. I was then without hope to sate
Such demonic being built of dust and ashes, regret, guilt.
Subtly it resumed its poise on the floor with nary a noise
the night wanes thinner
Awkward now I watch the dawn within my soul, my mind I yawn.
I feel these things take hold as nighttime withers from round my eyes
I rise in bed to blink and cough, the morning holds me tight and rough
I find no proofs of the dream, no evidence of the burnt ream.
Going to the bowl to wash I light my glance upon an ash
that twinkles down from above and fills my soul with dread and loathe.
The night was chiller
I stayed and watched ember fall, shivers ran in throughout my soul.
On the floor where should be light tis a shade of me not so bright
As the night before it glowed. Now it seemed to smile as if slowed
by daytimes power it waned, but not forgotten nor least tamed.
I stood still as shade and light fought for power in presence bright
The light but bar’ly won the morn, and found me shivering unshorn
The day was dimmer