Reminiscence,
Drug of old age.
Shackled to
Ghosts of the past,
Mirages
Dragging back,
As sands of time
Slowly drips.
Realities blurred.
Pleasure of being drunk
Without a drop of bubbly,
Completely alone,
But surrounded
By memories past.
Faded albums galore,
Galloping tornadoes
Crashing and reshaping
Pain and suffering.
Sinking.
From the past,
Comes a calming breeze.
Hands of friendship
Reaching out,
Encircling.
Distances blurred.
Alone but not empty.
Bonds that were formed
In a place unknown,
Kindred souls that
Never met before,
Walked the same road,
Brief period of life
Spent together,
An ever flowing glass,
Memories rekindled.
Sweet reminiscence
Will be fellow traveller,
Henceforth
Alone, but will never
Be lonely again.
Image photo by author.
Past memories “flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude!!” 🙂
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Yes, solitude can be blissful. Thanks for your comment.
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Lovely.
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Thank you.
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Beautifully written.
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Thanks.
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You are welcome.
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