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Remorse |
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I hear a familiar voice calling,
Calling from the
used-to-be.
I feel a guitar softly thrumming
Serenades
deep inside of me.
The chords pulsing within me
Summon dreams of long ago
Flowing down yearning years
With a longing that pains me so.
So why did I walk
away
from what I hungered for?
Why did I pretend not
to care
As I quietly closed that door?
All she
ever asked was that
I return a modest part
Of the
generous love she offered
From a free and open heart.
Had I followed my true desire
I'd never have gone to
war
And added such a burden
To a heart already sore...
No standing watching helplessly
As people died in
flames,
No learning cold, hard lessons
Why war is not
a game.
But, no, I had to go my way
Searching on
distant shores,
To find, aching years later,
I'd had
all I needed, and more.
Memories of that lost love
are dispelled by agonized cries
As smoke from a burning
village
Obscures my lover's eyes.
I don't often
think this way �
My soul can't bear the pain �
And
only very briefly
Do I allow that strummed refrain
To pulse, ever so gently,
Behind my shuttered eyes
To a counterpoint of mortars
And a lover's long lost
sighs? |
By
Thurman P. Woodfork
Copyright 2005
Listed
February 17, 2011 |
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