Echoes in the Night
I walked down the street clutching to the single red rose. The sky was clear. The stars had a faint glow. I held back the tears, concealed my thoughts and let my feet walk the path I lived to walk. I could hear a far off bark. I could smell the sweet scent from the rose. I felt the warmth of my memories soften my bruise.
I sighed deeply and a small cloud flowed out my mouth as I looked up to the sky.
“What a lovely night to…” my voice trailed.
A lump grew in my throat as tears began to pool. The cloud covered the moon in silk, dampening the light enough to illuminate up my path, but not enough to take away the burden. The faint noise of converse could scarcely be heard, but the beat of my heart echoed through my body, my head, and the empty street. All the houses were fairly new accept for the end few. They were ram-shackled and in need of love. I had come to the end house. The oldest, prettiest and most derelict of them all. No cars ever came down this far. No people dared enter the old. That’s why I loved it. For the memories. I give off a faint smile and laugh. So peaceful. Somewhere to gather my thoughts. Somewhere to take this painful burden. I stood at the gate. Gazing with wide, shining eyes filled with wonder. The tears erupted from eyes.
Blood trickled down my wrist as I gripped the rose tightly. The bitter sweet taste of pain burned in my mouth. My hand touched rusted gate cool to the touch, and as I pushed it gently it swung open with a creak then sprung back gently to a creaked halt. I stood. I stared. My heart drummed louder, shaking my chest. Step by step, over grown path, the smell of spring hit me. Memories drown my vision. I turn and look at the great oak, with its twisted branches and budding leaves. A smile appears encircling my salty cheeks. As I held my arms out - Nothing. Just a dream.
The rose petals drooped in my scarlet grip, and their scent began to drift as the scent of life replaced it. I walked up the stairs carefully so not to fall through. My thoughts became steady stream of hate, love, passion and memories. The hate which pieced my heart. The love I showed you. The passion we shared. The memories which were tattooed in my mind. I didn’t want any of this to happen. If I could go back I would change it all. But you can not erase what is done. You can only mend the future. This is what I was doing; mending the future.
I wrapped myself in memory around the rose and opened the door. With that, all pain and energy flooded from my body into the vast realm of eternity.
I sighed deeply and a small cloud flowed out my mouth as I looked up to the sky.
“What a lovely night to…” my voice trailed.
A lump grew in my throat as tears began to pool. The cloud covered the moon in silk, dampening the light enough to illuminate up my path, but not enough to take away the burden. The faint noise of converse could scarcely be heard, but the beat of my heart echoed through my body, my head, and the empty street. All the houses were fairly new accept for the end few. They were ram-shackled and in need of love. I had come to the end house. The oldest, prettiest and most derelict of them all. No cars ever came down this far. No people dared enter the old. That’s why I loved it. For the memories. I give off a faint smile and laugh. So peaceful. Somewhere to gather my thoughts. Somewhere to take this painful burden. I stood at the gate. Gazing with wide, shining eyes filled with wonder. The tears erupted from eyes.
Blood trickled down my wrist as I gripped the rose tightly. The bitter sweet taste of pain burned in my mouth. My hand touched rusted gate cool to the touch, and as I pushed it gently it swung open with a creak then sprung back gently to a creaked halt. I stood. I stared. My heart drummed louder, shaking my chest. Step by step, over grown path, the smell of spring hit me. Memories drown my vision. I turn and look at the great oak, with its twisted branches and budding leaves. A smile appears encircling my salty cheeks. As I held my arms out - Nothing. Just a dream.
The rose petals drooped in my scarlet grip, and their scent began to drift as the scent of life replaced it. I walked up the stairs carefully so not to fall through. My thoughts became steady stream of hate, love, passion and memories. The hate which pieced my heart. The love I showed you. The passion we shared. The memories which were tattooed in my mind. I didn’t want any of this to happen. If I could go back I would change it all. But you can not erase what is done. You can only mend the future. This is what I was doing; mending the future.
I wrapped myself in memory around the rose and opened the door. With that, all pain and energy flooded from my body into the vast realm of eternity.