In fruitless tradition,
I kneel at the alter of memory
in this garden of loss and souls.
An insoluble desire to court heartache,
To renew a dark corner of the heart,
through the bitter winds of time.
But only ever illuminate
that which will never be again.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
In fruitless tradition,
I kneel at the alter of memory
in this garden of loss and souls.
An insoluble desire to court heartache,
To renew a dark corner of the heart,
through the bitter winds of time.
But only ever illuminate
that which will never be again.
