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Apr 2015
Host of thoughts, hoarder of secrets
cascading minds erupt unfurled
lovers lost and cries unheeded
into inky darkness noises plunge
this molten surface of frozen disregard
into which we fall precious memories
mustn't, shouldn't, dare not let go
heedless falling in hopeless monotony
fleeing from pain, emptiness left in wake
to make the same mistakes
time drags balance, empathy for the lost
understanding of lives, lessons entwined
groping inside to missing
the pain that allows joy to bloom
desperately hands splash into shadowed depths
hoping to steal back discarded tatters
fingers dragging in struggling remnants
into the light of thought and view
to play among the misty, crumbling foundations
of the endless mind.
Tomas Denson
Written by
Tomas Denson  The world
(The world)   
813
   Traveler, W L Winter, Esther and SPT
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