The Silent Keen


Wisps of misty dreams
float away in swirls
of burned out ashes
of what had once been

The glory we had seen
of emerald greens
and sapphire skies
nothing remains
but rivers of ruby
flowing at our feet

A spark in the distance
shimmers for a while
and fades off into the haze
assaults my visions
transcends into empty space

I bury my face
too much to bear
too much to face
the memories still haunt me now
accomplices to my grave

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