A Villanelle of Private Hell
Of Darkness and Memory
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell
That single hour returns to haunt my brain
And what I lost becomes my private hell
Each midnight strikes its deep and doleful knell
I pace these shadowed halls and call your name
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell
Within my skull your phantom voice does dwell
It whispers of that moment once again
And what I lost becomes my private hell
No wine nor sleep can break the maddening spell
No reason silences this dread refrain
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell
The living envy those who in graves do dwell
For death brings peace while I endure this pain
And what I lost becomes my private hell
My soul is chained within this ghastly cell
Where memory cuts deeper than a chain
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell
And what I lost becomes my private hell
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
Let your becoming be louder than your fear, and your smallest steps become the road you once thought impossible to walk. An Appalachian poet and cookbook author my book Beautiful and Brutal Things is on Amazon, Link 👇
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