Alone she sits upon her dusty throne.
Her eyes sunken and her long moth bitten gown hung lifeless to her ashen skin.
The unforgiving chime's of time pass her by. Dripping with jewels her boney hand still clung to the broken string of pearls as they roll between the cold stone cracks beneath her feet.
Secrets layed to rest long ago with no voice to tell.
She who has been long forgotten dwells in the silence of her chambers for all eternity.

Lost to the darkness.

thoughts once so clear
now flee en mass like
small birds scattering in the wind...
try to capture one
and it fades to dust in my
trembling hand
my eyes teared up by the loss...
what was her name...
when was it I smiled like the
sun bursting through the clouds on that day...
where did I misplace that long-sought device...
where have all my yesterdays gone...
all escapes along the shifting winds of age
small beautiful birds
plumage so bright and beautiful to behold
loves and laughter, days of wonder and joy
crumble into dust as my forgetful fingers
pry at their edges, trying to recall...
her yesterday was my forever
do you think she remembers me? ...
as I slip into forgetfulness
I hope that I will no longer remember
to mourn my forgotten yesterdays...
age is coming for me
and iv forgotten how to tame that ugly beast

Someone's story just ended in
page fifty-three
The pen fell and no one can pick it up to
start again
The last goodbye is an unfinished line in
chapter eight
Phantom words will be this story's only
friend
"Hello" is now forgotten where the ink bleeds
"the end"
Nobody knows when their acknowledgements go next…

I’ve thought about that so many times before,
An itch on my mind like a scratch on the floor.
I’ve seen my face on other peoples memories,
Boxed away in places just out of reach.
It might be my life but it’s just a figure of speech.

A forgotten fallacy, framed through the ages and found in the back room of an old mans house,
Dust blown, leather cracked and spine broken.
Cracked open in two, bent over a knee and followed by the finger.
Put the red ribbon down and let’s talk it over,
Draw a pretty picture and imagine it again.

Where the wind whistles and the dogs howl like stars in the night.
Piercing the black, thick tar in the sky.
Running over clouds and dripping through my mind, thick like treacle but no half as sweet.

His memories echo in yesterday's silence,
An abyss of agony singing in her wake,
Forgotten symphonies.

You picked me from the masses
Taken from the grasses
"I'll remember you forever"
So I'm stored between the covers
Pressed and crushed within the pages
Just like all the others
And over time, I am dried
No more tears left to cry.
I am just another leaflet
In your book of memories