Strange Remembrance
Strange Remembrance
I woke to see a drop of stain, a spot of crimson upon the floor,
I followed it down the hallway and glimpsed.
A sea of blood that was a door
A door no more it became to me a thing of sorrow, of cries outpoured
I turned the knob, slippery now from the blood of those that came before.
Opening I saw a thing of terror, greater than that of just the door.
A carpeted landscape now turned to crimson from the bodies that lay before
This thing once cherished, a door that freed me from nightmare, a bed of store
That bed turned red from spattered remnants of two bodies I once adored
Crawled to it, I did once do the tears within my eyes.
And conceived their sitting, upon the pillows fitting, the bodies that recently died.
And wondered what, could bring this, no sorrow a man should hold, and a promise I made, with back to a door that the blood of two people will hold.
And wondered these thoughts, about the people who did this,
Are they happy with what they have done?
About the stains that they left in a carpeted hallway, in the place I used to run.
Or do they feel as I do a gaping sorrow that once was won
By laughter and tickles, a thing called “family” and two people that called him SON.
Taken from me by people of whom … I will never know there name.
And for them though shallow I would wish nothing but the same
These two did nothing to you but to have a house in keeping.
A target made and exemplified by that witch you were seeking.
So know this, that your time will come, upon the alter you shall be seen
And the replays of yesterday’s memories will come before your eyes
You’ll remember a carpeted hallway, now made red from things you’ve done
And wish you could take it back, as I do from our “PAST” we run
To a place of solace I long for but know that I will never find,
As I look for different memories, that will ease this … my stain of mind.
Copyright © Ryland Matthews | Year Posted 2011
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