The Nameless Ones

Digital StillCamera

The Nameless Ones

We stand at the edge

We are nameless

Call our names
Naked in the darkness

I could touch
Only broken stone

As old as the forgotten
Cold to the fingertips

Her name
Her name is unknown

She walks
Dressed in white

Find that path
What else is there

Going down that path
Slip underfoot

Only forwards, never back
Only names remain

I remember so few names
They are gone

But the faces still haunt me
Like the woman

Dressed in white
Who haunts these paths

Like someone searching
For a place and a face

She could put to a name
That haunts her memory.

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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