Jesse

Jesse
by Rachelle Star
wake up,
memories do lay,
now I see,
the pages are turning,
darkness enters through the binding,
on the loss of life,
fading red upon the pages,
alone in the room,
like in life.

To much has been written,
no more a time of joy,
nothing but empty,
no more,
now less,
different than before,
the pages are turning,
now printed with red ink,
to much has been written,
now to let go.