by Laura Lamarca

Created on: October 13, 2008

"Hindsight's hues and yellow moons."

I lean against hopelessness,
tear down the differences
between light and dark,
visualising beaten blames
and broken vowels

calmly comforted by the colour
of failure.

And I remain here,
strangely understanding
how things were...

how they would be

and suffering shows itself
completely.

Despite perplexity
and rage
I react to the pain
embedded in my soul
and the enormity of taken paths
winds its way
inside salty concerns

but victory has vanished
and hope lies not in hindsight

and makeshift meanings
no longer hold malice
against twisted hearts.

I am restrained
only by your feigned feelings
that long ago lamented
our repented mistakes

and I loiter limply,
like a poster
stripped of its purpose,
as you burn in the glory
of ill-gotten gains
whilst whistling the woes of others
along your ancient road
of yellow moons.

I exhale my disbelief
in silence's screams,
for dignity is as quiet
as it is loud

and pride's shroud of you
has crumbled
upon the hearth of ever-gone

as love dies...

and leaves its shadow
against the backdrop
of your demise.

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