Title: The Dream They Held
Status: first draft
Author's Note: Found an old notebook and this was the last item in it. I like how it reads and don't wish to tweek it too much (as is my nasty habit to do so) so feedback and constructive criticism is welcome.
Wish I could hear the dream They held
Before the beasts attacked
with self-righteous swords bathed in blood.
I can only mourn in anger at the injustice served
and feel the empty ache of loss
for the connection severed.
No past is left for me.
No future can grow from ashes.
Where does a refugee flee when all is lost?
Across time and space?
Through mists and shadows?
Ghosts more haunting for their murder
echo my cries
beg for me to remember them
But I can't speak names I don't know.
I can't carry out rites no longer taught.
I can't hear the dream They held.