We honor others
by growing them
in our memories,
as we destroy some
by burying ourselves
in theirs.

The Titan lies with his wretched body opened and exposed,
so one can stand inside the emptiness that can fill a Halargian world.

She’s bucking a ride
While holding black and grey threads
Just taking her time

Thousands of bubbles
Gently surrounding her face
Fashion a grand crown

Gravity had to let me go
With no more power
To keep me on the ground

For where I do not know
Allowed to fly in this hour
Faster than the speed of sound

Yet I keep myself tethered
So I am not lost to the stars
To bounce back from the edge

Since I am granted no feathers
Made like the birds of Mars
As the stories had alleged

Thus, I am as Saturn’s rings
Shine on the blackened curtain
Along my destined path

Made up of imaginary things
Even you can be certain
Like the sum of all math

A citrus grove grown
On lands swelled from spring showers
Bringing blossoms forth
With such fragrant filled flowers
Such fruits sown, to head up north

Not a passing dish
For the poor and frail
Seen within a faith
Behind a darkened veil

Granting gratitude
For a nemesis near
Without apprehension
To no longer fear

Like a toss in the jar
They are drinking from
Made five pence richer
To add to their sum

Biting on the coin
To test its metal
Convinced its true
They decide to settle

So a hand shake later
To test whose strong
Squeezing still
That lasted too long