Of the winter days and darkest nights
and long forgotten sorrow.
Upon the freshly scattered thoughts of years passed and hope of new tomorrow.

Beneath the veil so carefully sewn
and lies of all we think we’ve ever known.
Amidst the ash of burned yearnings and long forgotten desires of home.

So deep among the rusted treasures
and things we’ve collected here.
Only to have them fall to pieces as year surrenders to year and year.

Somewhere in this mess of failures
beneath the retched, smoldering coals.
It lies forever dormant, but dangerously visible among the shallow shoals.

Shall we dig it up?
Remember fleetingly our soaring youth?
Remove the scars and stains and ever-worn disguise, restoring it anew?

Pretend the veil is torn in two?
Pretend we’ve opened our worn eyes?
Relive the pain and sorrow, open fully shattered wings as if to fly?

No.  fear not.  We are far too smart for that.
We’ll leave the fire ablaze, the mundane in place
and further distance abandoned desires to be, to live and see a difference.  
Preferring just the same things.