And yet, the night breeze, I sensed, it became a hurricane in the morning, my dream, in it as though truth itself, is to know that night breeze, as though in romance- to romance the mystery of the hidden truth. For I love the night breeze, which so few yet can sense.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
It catapulted you through your many happy dreams
Remember me, the shadow, the one you once shared your hopes with,
Remember the things you told me, as you stood before the empty void,
Forget not my woes, and the love we once had honoured,
Forget me not... forget me, but remember a few of our moments.
Remember when you tried to convert me, to a God in whom you no longer believe.
Remember all your certainty, sometimes I wished for it too.
And I wasn't insulted, when you asked it of me, but I stuck somehow to my lesser beliefs.
You had such steam running through you, it catapulted you through your many happy dreams.
But you never once lost my esteem.
I wonder where your passion went, which had such concern for little old me.
And my lesser God has yet to abandon me.
And I still hold my lesser beliefs.
Remember when you talked of marriage, of your plans for us to elope.
We haven't spoken in many years, it's something that was once your hope.
If only I had held your beliefs, which have long since gone up in smoke,
If only I'd been good enough, as good as that of which you spoke.
Remember well, how you looked down upon those whom you now best resemble.
How you spoke of your vision for them, them who now mirror your heart and trembling soul.
And I wonder if you've found some right or wrong, amidst the grey of your world,
And whether your hopes still remain in some escape to be bought, for the wage of your salt.
And I mutter words in a language long dead,
And bow down still, with my lesser thoughts in my head.
And shadows pass before me, as candle light flickers ahead.
And I am glad I did not change for you,
In fact, I've not altered much at all...
And though I hardly remember your name or your face,
I remember when you asked me to change, to become something other, greater than little meek me.
And I feel relief in these shadows, as I softly worship my lesser God,
A slow river, not swift passion, my lesser, lesser beliefs...
I hope you somehow found the peace you sought,
You always jumped for a hope.
Posted by Marc Evan Aupiais at 7:30 PM
Dad; Husband; Christian (Catholic); Irish. — News; Business; History; Civilizations; The Western World; Speech; Culture; Law. (Pronounced: Aw-Pea-Air.)
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