You are a book that resides in my soul.
Every page of which I know blind fold.
Yet I love to read you daily.
Like an abiding promise that's holy.
The words spell a love song.
A soothing serenade I sing along.
Memories rush like a freight train.
Yearn for moments to relive again.
The heart flails without a home
Cast out in the wind alone.
Blind to any overtures of empathy.
Rail incessantly at life's cruelty
Seek the arms of solitude to heal.
The deeply set wound stop their bleed
Poesies bloom a balm to the misery.
As odes to the footprints of memories.