you buried me in
bitter orange and oak...
Isn’t it strange
how time can twist and change...
the world before you is one that’s foreign to...
like an ancient civilization you’ve once heard...
Echos from a choir of nuns
can be heard from a convent down...
When two hearts
find each other...
Somewhere amidst an
acrimonious tempest...
I no longer wear my heart on my sleeve,
holding my feelings at the edge of my tongue...
Now that the storm has settled,
I walk back along the trail...
Familiarity is the taste of nostalgia
and betrayal...
I picked up the blade
like it would help me sow...
Spark
my mind with your words...
The world is crumbling,
life has gone insane...