"Memories"
"Memories."
Bitter was the midnight winter's cold
the stars were shining and glimmering
I wasn't asleep, I was waiting to be told
test results by a doc whose teeth were glistening.
The moon held its silent course
no white snow to be seen indoors,
no white snow in sight to be found,
only paramedics abound.
They stood there yellow, white and red
yellow, white and red by the wreck
looking, as many nights before in dread
upon a major reality check,
looking towards the the two crashed cars
harbinging death weren't for lucky stars,
contemplating what no answers give
the riddle so hard of a life well lived.
They pull their hair and prod my visage
shake their heads in sheer disbelief
"no, that riddle is like a mirage,
no, I would've sworn it'd end in grief"
they dismiss their thoughts most rapidly
and go on to work most routinely,
check the pressure, pupils and for blood
check the EM, wipe my face to get rid of mud.
They go to the ambulance's front and phone
the closest hospital's ER ward,
I sit there dreaming of being home
not conscious of my luck of not being gored,
I look above, I look below and I forget
how glum I felt in yesterday's sunset
how now my eyes are open wide
how I'm just so grateful for being alive.
I stand up and walk towards what's left
I see windows, roof and doors shattered
I walk around the debris, of my life not bereft
the motor near exploded and the framework battered
My future sons would've at home slept tight,
dreaming of Christmas Eve's delights,
my future sons would wake that day
the stars were shining and glimmering
I wasn't asleep, I was waiting to be told
test results by a doc whose teeth were glistening.
The moon held its silent course
no white snow to be seen indoors,
no white snow in sight to be found,
only paramedics abound.
They stood there yellow, white and red
yellow, white and red by the wreck
looking, as many nights before in dread
upon a major reality check,
looking towards the the two crashed cars
harbinging death weren't for lucky stars,
contemplating what no answers give
the riddle so hard of a life well lived.
They pull their hair and prod my visage
shake their heads in sheer disbelief
"no, that riddle is like a mirage,
no, I would've sworn it'd end in grief"
they dismiss their thoughts most rapidly
and go on to work most routinely,
check the pressure, pupils and for blood
check the EM, wipe my face to get rid of mud.
They go to the ambulance's front and phone
the closest hospital's ER ward,
I sit there dreaming of being home
not conscious of my luck of not being gored,
I look above, I look below and I forget
how glum I felt in yesterday's sunset
how now my eyes are open wide
how I'm just so grateful for being alive.
I stand up and walk towards what's left
I see windows, roof and doors shattered
I walk around the debris, of my life not bereft
the motor near exploded and the framework battered
My future sons would've at home slept tight,
dreaming of Christmas Eve's delights,
my future sons would wake that day
surely at gifts tearing away.
The paramedics lead me back to sit
right back next to the other driver
we don't know each other but have just been hit
by the joy of being two survivors,
our paths in foreign lands have crossed
faraway from snow and frost
no one could quell that happiness
to live to tell the tale how death had missed.
Bitter at home was the midnight winter's cold
the stars were shining and glimmering
caught Down Under on a beach turned gold
I lay on the sand with my eyes tears shimmering
The moon held its silent course
no white snow before this Christmas' doors,
no white snow as far as eyes could tell
Only the joy of Life upon this Christmas fell.
Kommentarer
Skicka en kommentar