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The Forgotten
Far reaching, ever encompassing
Eyes are useless
Veiled by the constant darkness
Of civilization
Every person in the crowd
Holds a candle
White and pure
Standing like serious grey haired soldiers
The dust more real then wax and wick
Sound is a trick, a lie
Something we know and understand
But the candles
Or foreign objects
Grasped in desperate hands
Is solace
Some strange comfort
And every now and again
One will flame red
Brilliantly, blindingly
Shoving the unsuspecting masses
Into a world unknown
Where this oddity attacks
The most basic of senses
And pursues them into retreat
When darkness appears again
It is relief not despair felt first
But that is ever rarer now
The odd combustion of circumstance
Yet once long ago
Some almost remember
The whole world bright
A time when even dark wasn't dark
But all there is now
Is the faint flicker of the occasional candle
Prepared to battle back the dark
And knowing their futility
They extinguish
Was there light
Wonders and old woman
Reigning in pride to her
To stop the gushing breath
So she won't turn to
Tretcherous voices
In the increasing blackness
A child leaves his place
The place he has stood forever
And flocks toward the flame
An anomoly his short life
Had never witnessed
Like a moth
He is pulled toward it
And like a moth
He meets his doom
And falls into oblivion
The surface is not safe
But none grieve his loss
Most accept the screams
As illusion
And those that know the truth
Have given up
The boy is lost
And only he knows it
