I'm going through some boxes, and came across something I wrote, quite some time ago. I never titled it. It's a bit melancholy. Let me know what you think?

"I sit alone, hugging your photograph

Wrapped in the flannel shirt you left behind

The tears on my cheeks reminiscent of

The mist of rain on my face that day

As I looked to the sky

And silently asked "Why?"

That day the clouds wept with me

Why could not fate be more kind?

To erase all those thoughts, those memories

That now forever echo through my mind.

Nature weeps, and as she sheds her tears

My days became nights

Those nights became years.

Till that flannel shirt, worn almost sheer

Feeling only then, close to you

Feeling you near

From all the nights it was slept in

As with memories, like life, worn and thin.

Tenuous are the threads of life

Woven throughout time

Taking from me who I held most dear.

The scent of you, long faded away

I waken in the night to see you

and reach out

With a now-wrinkled, trembling hand

Tender touch, with love, caress your face

Unchanged, you gently reach for me

Beckoning me to stand

With the years age has worn me,

My movements now hesitant and slow

Then I feel your touch again,

And doubt is gone in your warmth and glow.

Darkness departed when you returned

Where in two hearts true love remains

Across the years my soul has yearned

For in this moment, my soul is freed

Of all earthly bonds

As we're reunited, in eternity

A flannel shirt now worn sheer

Is all that remains upon our bed."

Mounted on the wall

A bright glare catches my eye

It reflects the light

From the setting sun

My pride and glory

What can I say?

What is mounted beneath

Shriveled and dead

Bears mute testament

To a victory, hard fought

But finally won

Another time...

A past life...

I give a toast

And raising my glass,

"Here's to Lorena!"

And,

A sharp kitchen knife.

In life, we truly walk a fine line

Like a Mobius loop we cannot define

Finite from infinite, sane from insane

And sometimes, darkness from light.

A reflection of innocence, long since gone

Hope into hopelessness, it seems

As I face the world in a reality

Gone mad, turned upside-down.

I waken slowly from my dreams

Only to find nothing has changed

Who is that person in the mirror?

I see the image of someone deranged.

The light edge of reason quickly fades

Shadows advance, closing swiftly in

With anguished cries I strike out

In denial, against a tortured reflection.

Shards of shattered trust betrayed

Splinter within my soul

Falling into the empty void there now

Which once was a heart that was whole.

Tears, stinging like acid rain

Blur visions of a future now gone.

Looking down, I see a blossoming stain

It's color, blood red, running strong.

For every face of light I show

I hide a face of darkness

A facade of normalcy? I don't know

Turning inward, I embrace the cold.

Reveling in it, not always revealing

To others who would then know my pain

That when the shadows rule my mind

All light is banished, at least, for a time.

The petals, withered and dry

Crumble into the dust of memories

Their weary weight falling

From sere, blackened stems

The sick-sweet stench of death rises

As the breeze from an open window

Blows the memories away

I lie here

Adrift in a twilight world

Between wakefulness and sleep

My conscious self departs

For a destination, hidden,

In this place between.

This pseudo-world

Without form, without time.

My subconscious rises

Making all those things

So impossible, so incredible

In the full light of day

Live and thrive.

I see her.

She is the lioness,

Eyes blazing with resolve,

She hunts.

Searching, seeking out

She tracks me

Scornful, she laughs

Knowing through all the cosmos

There is nowhere to hide.

I am she, and she is me.

She knows my thoughts

Before I think them.

Her vision sees clearly

Across the void

Of time and space.

Spirals of galaxies,

Bright lights flashing by

She knows, she's certain.

The darkness closes around me

I am she, but... Who am I?

I see myself clearly...

The rabbit, the prey.

Frightened, I panic

Running through celestial clouds

In which lie hidden

Those things of my waking fears

Those truths I cannot face

Except in that place between.

Boiling ocean

Thundering Seas

I ride the crest

Then drop, free fall

Into the trough.

The mountains rise

Looming above

Walls of water

Crashing on me

I cannot breathe

The pressure builds

Darkness edging

Into my eyes

My mouth opens

A silent scream

As the vortex

Is pulling me

Spinning around

The edge of life

Ever downward

Fingers reaching

But life is gone.

*his form of poem is called an octalogue, I think I have the spelling right. Each line can contain no more than four syllables to tell the story the writer is trying to convey. It's harder than it seems!

Unraveled,

Fibers quickly fray.

Darkness dawns,

I look down

Holding my rope tight.

Am I sane?

I look up,

And see lies.

All truth gone,

I'm losing my grip.

My eyes close,

Heart pounding.

Spinning in circles,

Fearfully,

I cry out

"Where is truth!?"

As I twist

The pit below me

Darkly waits.

My strength fails

Feeling it calling.

Screaming "NO!"

I cry out,

And let go

Sanity.

Lost within myself, I seek to recapture

That spirit, who dances, taunting, twirling

Around the roaring fire in which burns my soul.

She dances, beckoning, her movements pure grace

Tongues of flame reflecting in her eyes.

Her gaze sees, as if through me, as she extends her hands

The pulse of life beating with her every move.

"Come! Seek that which you have lost!" She says, but in silence

Speaking to me in words no one can hear, though we are alone.

Closing her eyes, she lifts her arms to the heavens as

In my mind, again, she speaks, "I am your Elan!"

"You and I are one! What I am, you will be again.

FEEL the rhythm of your soul, burn with the depth of your desire

Beseech the gods for what you seek

Yearn and reach, for your soul, into the fire!"

She extends her hand to me, in invitation to rise and dance

In fear, I pull back, feeling the heat of the flames

Opening my eyes, I look through them and see

Through my tears, my soul, gazing back at me.

The reflection of which, as though a mirror seen

Not if who I am, but if who I can be, and of who I have been

Should I only have the courage to reach out and brave

The flames of my own doubt and uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath, I rise, and..overcoming my fear,

I step into the midst of the fire, burning with a heat

That is cold, I claim again my soul which was lost,

Gathering my spirit into myself, I rejoice

And realize it was all worth the cost

For in those flames, was forged a strength that can hold

Through any adversity, strife, suffering or cold

I look out of the flames, but can no longer see

That Spirit; my Elan, is again one, now whole, in me.

A cry reaches me, through layers of sleep

Disturbing my slumber, dreams restless and deep

Again your cry pierces, reaching, taking my heart

Through layers, fast lifted, I awake with a start.

That cry, yet again reaches, and fills me with dread

My heart in my throat, I leap from my bed

Panic lends speed to my step, as I race to your room

Eyes open to darkness, trying to pierce through the gloom.

You wrap your arms tightly, 'round your own shaking form

Eyes open, yet unseeing, trying to ride out the storm.

Sobs through clenched teeth, in anguish you cry...

While I struggle to hold you, feeling part of myself die.

I try to hold you like there's no tomorrow

To take your pain, and soothe your sorrow...

To hold you up, to sun's warm, healing light

Gently soothing away your loneliness and fright.

Tears coursing down both our cheeks, streaming

Yours in fear, from what you are dreaming.

I gather you close, trying to hold you more tightly

My heart aching, I weep, for what you dream nightly.

I pray that one day, these demons are done

And the child that I love so, will have battled and won.

And know, that I reach him, down deep in his dream

That he is never alone, no matter how it might seem.

*(I wrote this in about twenty minutes after remembering the night terrors that my oldest son suffered from when he was a little boy.)

Folded with respect and pride

A triangle flag, with love caressed

Holds a place of high esteem

Within its wooden crest.

Once draped a coffin somber

As within, a warrior slumbered

Or sits beside a wooden box

In which contained, all that remained, ashes...

Of a hero, whose blood, selfless, he sacrificed

Tears, flinching as fired cannons cast

Melancholy shadows, of warriors past

No matter in what nation he served,

In freedom's fight for all that's right,

This is the least that he's deserved

I honor those who stand and fight

Volunteering to protect

Where others turn and run in fright

When at war's crossroads, they intercept

Those whose plan for grief and harm

They grimly fight and battle on

And even injured, with last breath

Press ever forward, sounding the alarm.

Though oft deaf ears refuse to heed

That warning from a warrior fallen

Red heat, free-flowing as he'd bleed

Cacophony of war, it's rages fading

Hearing loved ones' voices

In his final moments calling.

*This poem is my tribute to those who have served, to those who have returned from the theaters of war, and to those, especially, who never made it home to hold their loved ones again, whose spirits live on in their loved ones' hearts forever.

I honor you.