Hazy Memories

alestorm grayscale

Staring at the ceiling,

names scratched across the walls

hang like stars do,

reminding of what must be ages ago…


The smoke curls and billows

far above my head,

dancing with serifs,

waltzing around the things we said

while a familiar riff plays over and over,

and this loneliness won’t leave me alone.



When I hear trumpets sing

and clarinets swing,

I want to grab your hands

and dance.