::cella:: paperheart

Trips into yesterday,

Years back.

Voices once well known,

Now lost in emptiness black.

I am not sad

For what I have become,

But wonder at the losing,

Of where I once came from.

Spread a fan of stars,

Lit in a glimmering parade.

A white moon floating,

In a fathomless sea of black.

I rode into that world

On an albino steed of words,

Brandishing my sword of phrases,

Born from a heart desperate to sing.

Herald…the trumpeteer,

As she flies upon wings of emotion,

Spilling tears from a jeweled chalice,

Now, shelved in spent silence,

And the applause faded away,

Except for a single heart still listening,

A heart once broken in abject absence,

Of the greetings once so many.