In remembrance of the forgotten

When the future wasn't so bleak,
the ray of hope still shone bright.
The midnight suns were rising,
you still feared the night.

For all those emergent years,
when time grew still.
They were always there to take the fall,
when it all went downhill.

The grass was heavily trodden,
they paid for your sins.
Even though the pain was insidious,
there was no where else they would've rather been.

. . .

So there you stand,
watching them labour on.
They lie anything but peacefully,
while you do nothing but scorn.

Now it is them you hate,
and hate is a word thrown too often.
Was their heinous crime,
that they were merely forgotten?

. . .


And when they are gone,
the words will no longer come.
The repetition will be forlorn,
your deeds will be done.

A guilty conscience will fade in,
none will worry about the forgotten past.
Tears will run amuck,
the celestial silence will forever last.

An empty bed will be made,
and the sheets scented new.
Their presence will still linger on,
but only be felt by a beloved few.