"... joys and laughs of past-time seasons
will torture when alone."
There will be no celebrations,
the barren won't let go...
glass of hope is dry and cracked
when desperation's all you know.
Gathered dimes feel like a treasure
during days that are this tight...
it's hard to smile when feeling worthless
on a starless... silent night.
There are no presents wrapped in love,
decorations are not home...
joys and laughs of past-time seasons
will torture when alone.
Family, and friends you'd cherished
will echo in sound and sight...
ghostly blurs that are relentless
on a lonely... silent night.
There'll be no feast upon the table,
no fire burning bold...
the emptiness a crushing weight
when the heart is dead and cold.
End-result of what you've fostered
is a soul of char and blight...
the bitter taste of fear and heartache
on a hollow... silent night.
Copyright © 2009 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written December 2009