…but hope is nevermore

Loss is a shallow grave
where the shadows linger and lengthen
where the twisted roots of our memories
form the gates to hell
where the moon hangs low in ashen skies
and the pale leaves still cling to their trees
their cold whispers endlessly circling like mist
in this cradle for the lost, the damned and the dead
a raven’s call is drifting, heavily laced with sorrow
it’s melancholy voice seeping through the cracks
of this endless night
where sins thrive beneath our silence
and tears fall from hollowed eyes
the voices of lost souls are sighing ‘nevermore’
the waters now black with sorrow’s stain
forevermore will only reflect the depths of our pain
for here is where our loss resides
as dreams decay in stagnant tombs
I hear your voice from far away
‘our love was lost
upon this dark shore…
…it shall be found here
nevermore’
the last words that I will ever hear you say
now the wind abates
and the creatures of darkness
bear witness to our downfall
in the creeping silence
the ghostly echoes of voices from the past
still clinging to our souls, now whispering their refrain
‘loss may be a shallow grave…
…but hope is nevermore’
now my tears are dripping
drip drip dripping
singing like pain, falling like rain
upon this desolate shore
© Ann Bagnall