Forlorn Memories

Aging agonies, plucked like hollow
figs from the deepening recesses
and its inverted winds,

Old murmurings, strummed and
stirred up by the staccato plucking
of the temporal cello,

Epiphanies, stinging and biting
like fiery ice, a cold so bitter that it
burns so deep,

A quiet quickening, solidifying into
a shape that defies all words and
laughs at reason,

Forlorn and forgotten, such are the
memories that ripple from the rift
between now and forever,

 

BY: Hegemony

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