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Serenade of Ashes

I remember those cold eyes,
Staring at me like a crow,
Such darkness concealed within,
Her long dark hair hanging over her face,
The smell of fire about her,
She always smelled like that,
She always got a kick out of burning things,
Obsessed with the small dancing flame,
Sometimes burning herself with it.


I never got why she loved flames,
I can still see the flames in her hands,
Always at night when the air is warm,
And the smell of burning hickory,
Takes me back to the day,
The last time she was ever heard from.


Still to this day they wonder where she went,
Why did she leave,
Was she kidnapped,
No note was ever discovered,
No reason for her to go away,
Now we just wait for word,
Only time will tell if she will return or not.


In my dreams I see the ashes on the carpet,
Dark footprints quite small,
Leading into the den,
And a burnt husk sitting on the couch,
Ushering me forward with a bony black hand,
Speaking in a raspy dry voice,
Then I awaken drenched in sweat,
Always saying I should lay off the scary movies.


Is it possible that she is still out there,
Reaching to me in my dreams,
People ignored her in school,
Calling her a freak and a witch,
Is it possible that she could be psychic,
And she is beckoning for me to find her.


I never thought of her as a freak,
I was devastated the night she upped an vanished,
Like dust in the wind,
Everyone spent the night searching for her,
But to no avail her body was never found,
For months they searched,
Years past by like no bodies business,
And eventually her memory was lost.


Ever since I last saw her,
I swear I can hear her voice whispering in my ear,
Every time I awaken.
There is no one beside me,
I whisper her name wondering what became of her,
And shed lonely tears for the girl I was going to marry,
when I finally got out of college.


Those eyes are always there,
In the horizon,
And I know that she is watching over me,
Be it in this life or the next,
I will await the day when we are reunited,
And the sweet smell of her burned clothing,
And warmth of her body,
Become real.

Author notes

I'm not sure why or how I really came up with the idea for the poem, a part just came to me when I was on my bike, and the rest just kind of forced it's way out of my head.

Strange how ideas can just pop out of nowhere, at any given moment.

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