A quiet thunder
silence inside an illusion
where we were
how we are
so many directions,
if I could find a way
forget about
everything I believe
could abandonment
become the relief
of a twisted mind.
Called in two directions,
nostalgic and obligatory
I choose the former,
always having known
the latter left my heart
unfulfilled.
The hours ahead
they will stretch beyond the usual
two,
only to remind a full
three day sojourn
into confusion
apart our lives
the end of a ruse,
no muse
sadly a mystique,
left in a wake.
© Scott F Savage 5/2020
apersonaljourney - stories of love 