Tome

Take my book of shadows page by page
Numbers on the bottom corner signify the age
A world of cursive letters
Set like links in iron fetters
Left like footprints in the dust of this now long forgotten stage

Set them in the unremembered sun
Where the shoulders colder grow and “shall we?” turns to shun
A home of insulation
And accepted consolation
Where tomorrow is a song that still repeats what we have done

Take my tome of light and see it close
Where embers dance like fairies in a world that no one knows
A world of would’ve, could’ve
Played on instruments of should’ve
Far behind this tattered curtain where it never fully shows

Set it in the pyre, if you will
Let it set for seven years upon your windowsill
Where light can eat the wording
Of the good and leave the hurting
For the tome we fill with shadows is the one that we can never really kill

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