In the Dead Night
by Wayne Russell
And here I am, another year,
ebbing away, basking in light
of decay and moonlit wonder.
And where are you now?
Up where angels fly and
sing in choirs, running
through fields, of euphoric
and in, golden aura.
You left this world of pain
too soon,
and yet
no one
could really lay the blame
upon you, or could they?
Down by rusted out
railroad tracks, lost in my
admiration, of those that
have gone into that last
goodbye; that haunted
pose, of death mask gaze.
The flowers are not here,
they have all passed on
through, into the next
realm with you.
That voice of yours, haunts
me in my sleep, the one that
would sarcastically repel, all
my accomplishments and dreams.
You took my soul undergrown,
leaving a hollowed shell to roam,
down alone, by the old rail road
tracks; in the dead night; where
there are no flowers.
ebbing away, basking in light
of decay and moonlit wonder.
And where are you now?
Up where angels fly and
sing in choirs, running
through fields, of euphoric
and in, golden aura.
You left this world of pain
too soon,
and yet
no one
could really lay the blame
upon you, or could they?
Down by rusted out
railroad tracks, lost in my
admiration, of those that
have gone into that last
goodbye; that haunted
pose, of death mask gaze.
The flowers are not here,
they have all passed on
through, into the next
realm with you.
That voice of yours, haunts
me in my sleep, the one that
would sarcastically repel, all
my accomplishments and dreams.
You took my soul undergrown,
leaving a hollowed shell to roam,
down alone, by the old rail road
tracks; in the dead night; where
there are no flowers.
Wayne Russell has been published in many zines, magazines, anthologies, both online and in print. In his spare time, he likes to practice his guitar, sing, creative writing, and photography; his first full length poetry book Where Angels Fear can be purchased on Amazon.