The procession of my days
gives way
to slow encroaching age
Each page
is written deep in blood
and floods
my mind with memories
that tease
The procession of these hours
have powers
to make the past within
akin
to something sad and lost
A host
for a feast of darker days
displayed
The procession of my life
A knife
that cuts my bloodless skin
within
Reminds me of my choice
This voice
which bids me now to lose regret
and forget
Β© Helen Valentina 2014, All Rights Reserved
Sigh….been struggling with some depression today…this poem really tugs at me. As always, wonderfully written, Sis. π xxxx
I’m sorry to hear you are depressed, sending positive vibes in your direction dear Sis!! π π xxx
Some days the procession seems like an all out sprint. Well done.
Thanks John!! π π
[ Smiles ] Thank you for posting this beautiful poetry!
Thanks so much!! π π
[ Smiles ] You are most welcome and do keep the wonderful poetry flowing!
Finally spending some time catching up a bit on reading blog posts after surgery. Been frustrated because I feel out of touch and confused. Nice poem helan
Thanks so much Elaine, hope your recovery is going well!! π π
It is indeed Helen. Thanks for asking. π
Oops. Helen. Sorry for the typo. Lol pain meds I guess!
π
I’ve never seen this style before, and I absolutely love it! Wonderfully written.
Thank you so much!! π π
Enjoyed the flow. Very nice.
Thank you!! π
Powerful. Very nice. I really enjoy your pieces!
Thank you so much!! π
I’ve enjoyed them since I began following you. Please don’t ever stop telling the world to listen. π