Poem By Gary Scott Gebert
Feeling the auburn flame,
a warming, yet ghostly embrace.
Brushing behind my perspiring neck,
causing an uncontrolled shiver down my spine.
Shadowy pixies dance upon our pasty uneven walls,
laughing quietly along with the rest.
Playing their twisted little games,
making my mind envision impossible things.
A calming scent of fresh cut peaches,
swell my lungs with convinced hope.
In remembrance of our moments together,
buried deep amongst our dreams.
Once an illumination for my soul,
keeping me normal and intact.
Direction and purpose predetermined,
needing not to fear the cold, dark world.
These past years I’ve seen,
the slow deteriorating wick.
An unstoppable melting,
liquefying this heart of softened wax.
Till the candle final fades,
little by little losing the fight.
Until it has been consumed,
and left cold and empty.