Flashing lights on the horizon
dredge up midnight shades of blue
back to when hearts made of paper
set a table trimmed with a spray
of larkspur and lies

I thought of running away then

to a time when things were simple
and patterns were predictable
and even the gravel path we walked
was safe as we ventured
to the edge of oblivion

how were we to know it would end this way

Voices humming in hushed tones
as I climb the cathedral steps
my stomach in knots as I hear
whispers spreading low and steady
across a crowd of mourners

Some secrets are best left long buried

photo: Pixabay
prompts: The Sunday Whirl, Lyric Ideas, #SalemVerse, #artwiculate, #zenverse, #APoemADay, #JulyFalls18