I tried to listen, once or twice,
To music in my head.
The hidden tunes I yearned to free
I found entombed and dead.
I tried to speak my thoughts aloud
When time could hold its breath.
A long-lost promise stole my words,
And they succumbed to death.
I tried to hold my trembling hands
Since they were full of space.
The voids unused to being bare
Held shadows in their place.
I tried to search the rusting skies
For whispered lights of day.
Ashamed clouds rained down memories
That made me turn away.
I tried to keep myself contained,
To shield the fragile hearts.
Chagrined I find my bloody claws
Clutch all the splintered parts.
I’ve found a choice - a gaping grave
Entreats me, in the mud.
So shall I chase the phantom hearts,
Already stained in blood?
Or shall I take the shovel here,
Despite my half-closed eyes,
To bury deep the rusting past
And hope it swiftly dies?
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