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literature
Lingering
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Literature Text
Lingering
Many of them lost by now –only a few struggle
against terminal decay. Too many are sealed
in the amber of habit, repeating their lifeless repertoires,
impervious to change.
Oh yes, we can try imagining
the price that survival exacted from them, as we listen
inattentively to their tales of sacrifice.
They have become the last of a lost generation.
They drink too much, or wake raving in the dead of night.
They stare with haunted eyes at worlds
they no can longer recognise, they're drowning in their anguish,
ostracised by strangers whose hearts
have never been shattered by brutality, by agonies of fear.
Many of them lost by now –only a few struggle
against terminal decay. Too many are sealed
in the amber of habit, repeating their lifeless repertoires,
impervious to change.
Oh yes, we can try imagining
the price that survival exacted from them, as we listen
inattentively to their tales of sacrifice.
They have become the last of a lost generation.
They drink too much, or wake raving in the dead of night.
They stare with haunted eyes at worlds
they no can longer recognise, they're drowning in their anguish,
ostracised by strangers whose hearts
have never been shattered by brutality, by agonies of fear.
A reflection on those who outlive history
© 2013 - 2024 AlecBell
Comments13
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Heartbreakingly beautiful, Alec. I am mesmerised by your thoughts.