Requiem of Reminiscence

I sit, encased in shadow,

all 'round, cold walls of brick.

Time here passes slowly.

One can feel each second’s tick,

like sands in an insane hourglass,

or induced by mad mind's trick.

And I sit in ebon throne-room,

ill-lit by half-lit wick.

Suddenly, within my mind,

dances an image of you,

and, seemingly, all is warm,

old seconds pass quick to new.

I stare eternity into your eyes,

those eyes, so strong, so true.

And all the hours that pass away,

seem like precious moments few.

In a halo, I see your flaxen hair,

shining in Apollo's light.

I hear your voice, like a nightingale's,

and all wrongs again are right.

I feel your lips press upon mine,

I reach forth to hold you tight,

only again to find I am alone,

and I have lost you in the night.

I sit, encased in shadow,

all 'round, cold walls of brick.

Time here passes slowly.

One can feel each second’s tick,

like sands in an insane hourglass,

or induced by mad mind's trick.

And I sit in ebon throne-room,

ill-lit by half-lit wick.