Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Echo

the echoes of the moment
sing a chorus of dim refrain
of days best forgotten
from realms that yet remain,
of times that linger hostile
in mind and emotion spent
in torrid pain and suffering
of hearts in anguish rent.

an echo of a sordid past
of once upon a time
rings true in present darkness
of somber song in mime
that lifts her voice in sadness
to moan a troubled song
that brings a brand new warning
of all that can be wrong.

a reflection of a beating heart
of a mother's mourning child
trapped in some dark solace
with no love left undefiled;
lost in the echo's chamber
drawing near to his last breath
death throes drawing closer
in helpless arms it rests.

Mournful song in horror's lie
reaching to draw him in
rebellion's child stands all alone
against the angst of sin,
unaware of the gentle hands
that would lovingly embrace
and sway him in a gentle breeze
to ease the pain he will face.

But yet the cry of echoed past
rings again in course refrain
a stealthy resurrection
unwelcome in helpless disdain;
stealing the heart of mother's child
tearing her soul away
addiction's wrath and disparity
echos fresh in fear this day.

© 2008 BY W GARY FORRESTER

3 comments:

Kerri said...

You have described my son perfectly.

Willie G said...

Kerri: I pray that at your son's age you can yet avoid what we have lived for some time now. Godspeed with those teenage years to come.

Kerri said...

We're trying. God knows we're trying.