When I Was Young

When I was young, I entered the graveyard
To the little stream amid the tombs—
Into a slumber where the bones sang to me
Between the embers and the rain.
God knows the stars had been bled dry.
I came to life in an alien misery.

I might have been, but I felt I never was.
Between the webs on fallen trees.
It was more than death I wished I’d seen—
A lonely soul that loved so deep.
The blue of the sky was a rag for my tears.
Dust in the ground; precious gold.
It reminded me of a world I always knew
Where everything meant to be was far away.

There was a wish, I’d thrown down a well.
Something in the eyes that saw no more.
And the grey of the mists was my shroud;
While I lay my head on all that never breathed.
Nothing housed life as far as I could see
Everything was beautiful and alone like me.
Life may have dwelt there when I was born,
But with my footfall, all had wilted away.

One last look where the light had faded:
Cascades of a memory never lived.
The taste of the sorrow was like roses,
The depth of the tears was sweet and dark.
I said goodbye to what I had imagined,
As if it thought I’d never depart.
Where nothing will grow, where the black rain falls,
No-one will find me as I mourn.


© 2020 Marten Hoyle