The Unmarked Grave Under a Forgetful Sky

Thoughts about the expiration of things we know and love, in a place we feel we cannot escape.

Where does the time go,

and where does it lay?

On cold autumn eve's;

the skies filled with gray.

Where are the shops we tarried and spoke,

of the future far off, our throats filled with smoke?

Now all of the windows lay cold and opaque,

No words now are heard,  no silence to break.

Where do the friends go,

and where do they lay?

Their haste I don't blame,

though they swore they would stay.

On still Autumn nights I lay flowers and stare,

at the tombstone unmarked beneath trees cold and bare.

I wait for the day that I lay down and die,

in that comatose town, under that forgetful sky.

Reviews

[Allycat]

"On still Autumn nights I lay flowers and stare,
at the tombstone unmarked beneath trees cold and bare.
I wait for the day that I lay down and die,
in that comatose town, under that forgetful sky."
absolutely beautiful, wonderful write...thank you for sharing :)