We are weary travellers now
trudging ever forward
with the heavy weight
of fading expectations
bearing down upon our souls
Out of the vast voids
of vanishing voices
and vanquished dreams
a veil descends upon
the empty fields
of our desolation
Adrift in the endless circling
of cold liquid skies
and the forlorn cries
of distant, sorrowful birds
We are weightless and lost
in a web of shadows
We took the light for granted
We did not feel the currents shift
We did not anticipate the rift
and now all is lost
the branches are bare
and hollow is now a colour
that is painted everywhere
In the aftermath
all that remains
endless cycles of pain
Trying to hold against the ebb
whispering quiet prayers
as the sea claims sovereignty
And we know that it is over
That all is lost
Our hearts beat in time
with the distant drums
of our destruction
The sky is burning red
and the wind
carries the weeping
of the motherless
of the fatherless
of the childless
of the homeless
and the hopeless
The circling skies
and the forlorn cries
of the distant birds
now carry the lost souls
for whom no-one grieves
gently taking them home
into the aching seas
of eternity
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 