Spectre of a Dying Flame
The horrific phenomena
To become the spectator
Of what a man can become
Under the diseased spell of confusion
From a Father to his Son
The thinnest fragment of recognition
From hazy memories to none
Only a man who can recall
Nothing but love
I can see, but my eyes they see next to naught
And I can think, but my mind has regressed to blank
When I open my eyes to this world that is not mine
With my mind caught in another time frame
I can feel the presence of those I know I've loved
But I know not the names of one of them
I'm not too young to be dead
Yet far too young to be alive and not comprehend
Or recognize a stranger as my friend
But fail to know the faces of my own kin
A fire burns out in the pouring rain
As wet piles of ash turn the darkest gray
Await sunny days in which doom impends
And still pretend that A fire's still burning in that pouring rain
And ash will return to it's former flame
To yield sunny days and hear those catch phrases we don't understand
Over these years of constant decline I hold regrets
Of the past that I can't change and won't return
I'm not too young to be dead
Yet far too young to be alive and not comprehend
A fire burns out in the pouring rain
As wet piles of ash turn the darkest gray
Await sunny days in which doom impends
And still pretend that A fire's still burning in that pouring rain
And ash will return to it's former flame
To yield sunny days and hear those catch phrases we don't understand
But now instead we slowly watch as you fade away
Peacefully fade into the gray
All we've seen through this fire and rain
Is the gray haze that seems to have taken your brain
All you see through disease ridden haze
Is the pain of the people who spent every day
Sending prayers to a dying flame
As it fades and leads to a West Berlin grave
For many years this fire and rain will remain
And I'll have to carry the pain
That in maize and blue casket encased
Lies the memory of the greatest man
And victim of undeserved fate
Writer/s: Derek DiBella
