The Rememberer
She sits and glances out the window gray
The glass just mocks and fogs her weary eyes.
The dancing candle fails to light her way
As darkness causes heavy, weary sighs.
But memory just shades her vision more.
A cloak of lies, like ice, then stuns her heart.
Her weak and weary feet won't leave the floor,
The window tears her wilting soul apart.
The sun once lit her flowing, golden hair,
And moon once filled her eyes with silver light,
But past has killed the gold that once was there
And now, her eyes are darker than the night.
The days, we say, have worn away her life.
But she doth know that t'was her foolish strife.
Copyright © Emily Goodreau | Year Posted 2014
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