A little bit of memory

Dark poetry you open up to me
Is pale reflection of an ancient fear -
Caught in twists of languages
And carved upon skin
World you knew gets blood and blossoms near
Lost in faux lines of stories
Truly pure in hearts
World you love still copies major parts

Still unknown in details
And hiding major part,
Past is like prophetic stone
Squeezed in raven’s paw.

I liked that melodies around myself I heard,
Despite of time when I didn’t know a word
It’s love we feel much earlier we are born -
Inside our souls and minds her whispers burn.

Each year, becoming story,
Falls into bed of time -
As morbid, fallen glory,
Sold for a future pride.

Each time becomes a shadow -
A useless, trapped phantom!
And life becomes cold hollow
With shades of love abandoned.

But someone, caught in living,
Still nurses ancient bones:
He blesses children, kissing,
And tells about gone worlds.

I like that evening tellings
In crackling of the flame,
When memory - not wailings! -
Caresses us again.

18/07/2014