Remembering Youth

A Poem by songstress

foolishly like a child, your hand reaches out seeking comfort within another...yet, there exists none.

foolishly like a child,
your hand reaches out seeking
comfort within another...
yet,
there exists none.
so then the sound of the ocean waves crashing
against rocks
echoes
somberly.
However, it's not rocks that
it beats,
it's you and that hollow shell.
nonetheless,
fret not for your still young... and pretty.

So, foolishly like a child,
you run out in hopes to evade the cold.
But, no-one is in sight.
Then quietly you look about,
and notice
a billow of white.
a beautiful tulip bud envelopes you,
and you sob ceaselessly...
letting
silver tears
paint that splendor doll-like frame
in streaks of blue.
Nevertheless,
your no young bud in bloom,
but
a girl standing solitary within
a balloon
of a tattered dress.
where in life did
your natural beauty head while you cried
endlessly.

You claim all's all right,
that
you could keep going without
aid...
still, a foolish girl you are.
you are still trapped and still dying.
for it is seen within
the abnormal luminescence
of ivory skin,
and the ethereal movement of fine black locks,
dancing within the wind.
You've long-lost all sense of warmth,
and so
are now forced to travel
this desolate
beach.
maybe it'd be better to wither, age, and die,
at least
then your body can make a beautiful monument.

Yes, let that beautiful bode of yours
become
the gift of life.
for as you yield your life
to
watery turbulence,
the scent
of rose and violet
shall bring forth the illusion
of someone being here...
You were here
when youth reached needlessly,
and
you were here
when youth ran brokenly,
seeking warmth.

Alas, there's no need for you
to be...
perhaps this plane needs
to devour you
to make real that there is someone alive.
but, forget not this,
you are still young and beautiful...
and it's okay to just
close sapphire eyes,
and give into
dark silence.
for we all know
that
you existed...
here in the form of flowers,
letting
your scent, your essence
give life
to something that's
been long dead