Christopher's Dead - *Black

“Forgive me,
Forgive me not”
The wind breathes
Heavy in remorse.
No one sang today,
No one cared;
And at long last
All that we remembered,
Like scattered lights
Across the horizon,
Had been patiently
And painfully forgotten.

There was one in the road,
Though we travel,
Or lest we’d forgotten
Such footsteps
That left marks
Like contingent heartbeats,
We travel the same
Forlorn paths,
And yet we don't remember.
These grey scars
Had been patiently
And painfully forgotten.

“Forgive me,
Release me”
The wind whispered
For uncompromised night;
And the one that took leave
To the lone tree tops,
Silhouettes cursed
Yet encased in warmth,
Its weathered façade,
Broken, still promising,
Had been patiently
And painfully forgotten.

But deeply marred
The one that seeps,
A more blackened pulse
From beneath the ground,
As if prolonging hope,
Forgot to beget
In reverence and body.
For this the wind
Painstakingly grieves;
All is lost.
A soul that will
Forever be remembered.

Christopher's Dead

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-85/