There are rhythms and rhymes that remind me of home
They feel like moments passed, like memories brought to life by the faintest of familiar refrains, or the whisper of a wandering word.
There are hymns that lay dormant in my veins
That burn through the bloodstream of my bloodline while bleeding through forgotten wounds, as the metallic stench of repressed recollections resurfaces to wreak havoc in places they’re no longer welcome
There are sounds and sentiments that become living lore, hymns and harmonies that hound me like resurrected ghosts and ghouls and wilfully forgotten fools
There are voices and melodies that remain
Like tattooed insignia from battles lost; maimed and marred in the reverence of impressions that will never leave.
Reminiscences that will never end.
Hauntings that will forever return.