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The Past is Sacrificed

As the dark survives

By Colleen Millsteed Published 9 months ago 1 min read
Image courtesy of Pixabay

He roams the memories of his happiest days,

Wondering where it all went horribly wrong,

The days of arms that welcomed him into her heart,

Where he could lay his head, where once he belong.

🗡️

He lives in these memories, staying awhile,

Soaking up the ambiance of pure perfection,

Wrapping his heart in the forgotten love,

Warming his body, until his rejection.

🗡️

As his heart fills with his remembrance,

He pines for the story that was once theirs,

Wallowing in the ecstasy of a forgotten time,

Pondering the thoughts of hers he shares.

🗡️

He strolls his heartbeat of long ago,

As it strums to the flow of love he feels,

Memorising the hours of comfort he forgoes,

And siphoning the happiness he now steals.

🗡️

These moments of pure memorial bliss,

Are the key to his future, to enable him to succumb,

He knows the rest of his story is within his loneliness,

And the warrior man he is to become.

🗡️

From this moment forward he’ll close his heart,

And rise to the stipend of the war he fights,

He’ll capture the darkening hours of his torment,

And stealthily cage his blackening nights.

🗡️

He now stands tall, proud and strong,

As his metamorphosis completes and his wings grow,

Defendant of his worries, his tears, his courage,

Putting the past to bed as a fiction story for the world to know.

Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.

If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.

Please visit my website if you'd like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.

Originally published on Medium

surreal poetrysocial commentary

About the Creator

Colleen Millsteed

My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.

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    Creative use of language & vocab

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Comments (5)

  • Grz Colm9 months ago

    I really like the tone and rhythm of this one! It’s also really inspiring. Excellent work Colleen. 😊👍

  • And yet I don't find strength in a heart closed off, only defenses against any future vulnerability. Then again, I have felt vulnerable among others virtually my entire life & feel I have no strength left. So there's that. Perhaps this way is better.

  • Oh I'm so glad he made it! So happy for him! Loved your poem my friend!

  • Brenton F9 months ago

    That was so good (so very good!) and then your last line struck a articular chord! Kudos!

  • Alex H Mittelman 9 months ago

    So emotional! Such a beautiful poem! 💙♥️ you’re an amazing poet! I Can feel your pain

Colleen Millsteed Written by Colleen Millsteed

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