…into melancholy

Unmoved by fate
my heart embracing the pain
drifting into the slow the falling night
alone on the bewildering desolate path of shadows
where minutes fade into into hours
my pain paints my soul anew and the stars fade away
but the still darkness sings to me
and the moon still spills her silver
I think of all my lost dreams
and I hear them whispering as they are passing me
and for a brief moment in time
echoes of voices that I have never heard
strangely become music to me
now the shadows are shifting in the ebb and flow
drifting like memories and slowly vanishing like the dew
my pain is unbearable, the dark partner of my longing
deep in my heart is a locked vault
where I keep the things that hurt me the most
the walks in the moonlight hand in hand
the shadows in which we lingered
and the wounds we shared
but somehow it also remembers your voice
replaying it calling through the corridors of time
over and over again
I am slowly learning that the past is not a burial site
but a doorway that I can enter for brief moments in time
where I find you waiting and the depths claim us
and I awaken with brief moments of clarity
that slowly drift out of reach
becoming faded visions, vague and ephemeral as mist
trapped in dark veils between the aching voids
the night winds around me like a sweet clinging vine
and in my heart the leaves are falling
into the ebb tide with me
drifting gently into melancholy
© Ann Bagnall