Thursday, September 29, 2011

House of Sorrow

House of Sorrow
As you enter this House of Sorrow
Observe the portraits of my child
Gone are my dreams of his tomorrow
Let the weeds, in my garden, grow high and wild

My heart feeling crushed as if in the Devil’s vise
Feeling my face – flushed, hot, and damp
My boy’s hand cold – lifeless and rigid as ice
Death haunted my dreams; in my mind has now set camp

Memories I fear one day to be out of my reach
My child, my son, why did you leave -
Much as the tide washes away sandcastles on the beach?
This tangled skein, a thread cut short as the Fates continue to weave

My ribbons I pinned to your chest
One of blue and gold, another of dark blue
Some thought I wore at my commander’s behest
In truth adorned my uniform, only because of the admiration from you.

~Martin Connors