Ancestors

Standing in confidence on my lonely terrace
my mirror doth sneak into moonlit eyes
reading out all mislaid memories,
decaying in the lonely graveyard-ash.
I owe to you the life I own
the blood that weeps in me
none can prove – O! you’re gone
the air of law I breathe in thee.
Let’s meet, dear ancestor
every night falls asleep that unanswered question
who I am, why do I bother
another suppressed halcyon pain!
Suddenly, you left me all alone
laid into a tranquil slumber,
the slumber continues – you’re gone
you’re a betrayer ancestor dear!
No! You dwell in my eyes, my flesh,
and in all that’s of mine;
in each dream I’ll come to thine
to recollect your mislaid bless.
Memories wither and so will I
soon in my grave I should lie
O! for me surely do care
decades hence I shall be the ancestor
Lying in confidence, in my lonely grave
my eyes doth sneak into the mirror
for me then my children would crave
and sincerely call me a betrayer.


Comments

Clarice Hare's picture
This makes me picture an anemic emo goth heirling, the last of his line, emoting to a disapproving-looking ancestral portrait in a decaying abbey full of rats and moonshadow. It could do with some more clarity but it was fun to read.

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