Forgotten

The fear of being forgotten is what drives us. It makes us better human beings. We yearn to be heard, we yearn to be loved, but most of all, we yearn to be remembered.

The barbed bandana, perched high
Slips, leaving it's mark
The pain, once a soft caress
Now the very centre,
Of existence.

Jagged curls, intertwined
The dark embrace, misleading
For friends and foes, alike
Leave us stranded, gasping.

And in the vast expanse,
Lies a writhing mess,
A lone silhouette,
Pleading.

On its knees now, in prayer
Eyes glazing over
A stifled cry, and then silence
A mercy killing, of sorts.

And with one last breath,
Numbness as it's solace,
It lies amongst the ruins,
Long forgotten.

Author's Note

It's been like 6 years since I've put anything up here. Really looking forward to your reviews!