The brain is a ruminant,
Though only when the sun sets,
Reclaim the ruins and the remnants,
The river mouth regurgitates
Riddles from the red-raw years,
Rhymes to ride the tide of tears,
Resolute in the face of fears.
Re-masticate the reveries,
Feel them flow forth freely
Between the gaps and synapse.
A lapse of judgement partly
Resides within the wraps,
The wrinkles, and the folds
Of the grey matter maps;
Memories unresolved, retold.