The Summer Memories

The main room is barren and cold,

Filled with old furniture that's been knocked over and smashed to pieces.

It is an old room has been through much.

And to think only yesterday it wasn't always so cold.

That it used to be open and cheerful and full of people.

Ah, the people!

A whole host of boys with stars in their eyes and hope in their hearts,

Knowing their defeat was nigh and never running from it.

As you take in for the first time the size and scale of the room,

It is not difficult to imagine that crowd gathered here,

To celebrate or to plan or to relax or what have you,

All taking place in the euphoria of the summer wind.

Yes...that is what it reminds you of.

Summer.

And suddenly, like a storybook,

You imagine the room unfolding itself to you,

And you sit down in one of its empty chairs at an empty table,

Like a mournful song it tells its story,

Of blood and darkness and dawns and a night that was supposed to end.

Only it didn't. The song ended instead,

Though the story lives on.