Buried In The Snow

A vast majority of the times, the title to my things in the first place is just whatever I was listening to at the time. Or an abbreviation or anagram of.

After what happened, promise it won't change

I don't get together if it's all not strange

I can't seem to think, after what had been said

I don't feel quite right, less alive moreso dead

Your voice rings whispers to a desolate shore

An ocean once flowed here, life laden before

There were smiles and laughter from the beautiful fold

Dancing and caroling, until fate broke the mold

Carefree, soft and thoughtful caresses

A lifetimes worth of helpful blesses

Flickering torches shroud the rest of the messes

While night steals away

Saving for it's perfect day

Been a while of stargazing night

Lost without mind, fantastical flight

Wheresoever would treasured galleons be

Haven't heard word since the first trip to sea

Skies had rained ash when the seas roiled black

Criers sold out, music's not coming back

Flocks on mute, done turned on the world

Something can't be correct, if this is what unfurled

Carefree, soft and thoughtful caresses

A lifetimes worth of helpful blesses

Flickering torches shroud the rest of the messes

While night steals away

Saving for it's perfect day

I haven't courage to want to come home

Tried living there before, not my life on the loam

Stole away from it all, trickle down

Bored of depression, I'm angry at frowns

Reviews

[Ruth]

A wonderfully emotive write :)
Whem the lowest ebb has been reached, where else is there? Nice work! xx