i heard a distant thunder
acknolgment of truth
it called me to make a wonder
from memories of youth

sat upon the stairs afraid
heard a painful cry
asking for assistance
i sat upon the stairs afraid

Here upon my throne of idiocy
I command a thousand memories.
Where each proclaim their majesty
Through mysteries woven into time.
And here I robe myself in that splendour,
Of the love and pain they muster;
Self inflicted wounds, too deep and dear
For time and tears to heal,
So, there to worship at the feet
Of this man whose future they will plunder.

'All of you.' August 2020.

Brisk bones bend in the wind,
           as frail memories
fall beneath me.

Every one in a moment of decay.

No longer apart of me,

  but a skeleton figure

                         of a past,
brighter and full of life.

I wish that my memory could be erased.