Upward from the smoke, dead figures amass,
In visions
passing 'fore my sleepless eyes.
Then: cut the cord, a lasting incision;
Now: cloud my sight, silhouetting the skies.
Awakened by this sudden sense of time,
Where ancient
tongues whisper their sacred creed.
Re-viewing their infamous desertion,
Wallowing e'er in their enemies' greed.
Investing in the 'knowledge of life' found,
We sell ourselves
to the remorse of being.
By these haemorrhaging memories stained,
May we nevermore tell what we have seen.
Scattered, the ashes of connection singed.
There
is a changing wind between us now.
We have gone beyond the point of return,
Yet, I will find my way to you somehow.
