It was reminiscent of a past unremembered,
Like dreaming a life never led,
A feeling of enchantment,
Better left to the dead.
It was a movement in the ground,
Like a wave of discontent,
A momentary quiver,
Not sure what that meant.
It was sickening in its rapture,
Like hope hugging stars,
Funny thing with raptures,
They still leave bitter scars.