She Floods My Memories

Once upon running waterfalls

I saw a vision of my future,

Relived my past

And fell in love with a tainted saint.


In my thoughts and in my dreams

She is always on my mind

Narrator of Truth

Poet hidden between fantastic lines


This tainted saint floods my memories


When gazing across the fields of corn

My eyes spy a saint, torn ugly and forlorn

The silence in hers is a symphony of sorrow

Same feeling today as marrow!

Faith born yet not unblessed


She sings a melody from her long begotten soul

Shuddered  by the world that left and consumed her whole

She rides my memory, like on silver tides of emotion that guides her life

Can you feel them too?


I see her in the corner

Wishing to divulge twisted tales of loss and deceit

Cannot help but sing out for someone to see

Caught in a web of misery

Why can’t others hear her call?


And so I come to thee

The twisted heretics of thy dreams

With the ever piercing eyes cascaded with tears


Tomorrow, I’ll try again

Searching in vain for lost angels who look at life from different angles


Like ghosts in the fog of life

These tainted saints flood my memory

And whisper soft lullabies as if in remedy of my insomnia,

Where from good natured edicts flows the cure to mania


Still, silent in the night I hear her cry

Wondering “Why, Oh why

Do these drops of salty rain drip softly down on my cheeks”


And I have no answer that sounds unique

How does one speak to a saint, even if tainted?

Nor speak a prayer that hasn’t been spoken a million times before

Only to plead that it is not broken


The soaring voice of majesty

Shows life as from before hearing all those bitter lies

The songs of fallen bitter ones

Combine to create lasting life


In my thoughts and in my dreams

They are always on my mind

The broken hearted madams of misery

The ones so full of life


These tainted saints flood my memories.

The End

30 comments about this poem Feed