Life Poetry

Crimson Shadows

crimson shadows
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I see the Time ambling away

Laughing at my helplessness

Present withering away to past

Past turning to ashes

Provoking flashes of memories

Moments that left deep gashes

 

Staring at the vast blankness

With my eyes closed

I could feel the crimson shadows

I could feel their minstrel echoes

Those tiny feet taking me through

The vast meads; floating as floe

 

I hear whispered prayers

I see tear stained cheeks

I smell my mother’s rosy hug

I could feel her gentle ease

As they paint the bare canvas

With brilliant colourful streaks

 

A mere sight sets me drifting

backwards; the years may pass

Preserving what is left of them

Just a mere mark;

Abnegating as I went further

Farther from myself, breaking apart.

 

What is the past then?

But just a shadow that lingers on

Deep and dark, no shape, no form

Not a voice to be heard or said

ALSO SEE :   Every Night

Except the ones I hear in my head

Churning out memories of moments

 

To live again; a thousand times more

If only I could touch the Past again

To soak in this ambrosian warmth

One more time; get drenched —

In this golden mist of lifeless shadows,

And be alive again




Cover photo by Jason Sinn, Model: Michelle Mua​
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