a barron coast

looking into the horizon I see things as they once were all drawn in sharp colors and defined lines now fading as time travels from one point to the next I see all in my dusty history images tattered and bled into rust once I remember now nothing but ghosts looking into the horizon along a barren coast back along my encrusted misery like pages in a book tattered and worn once drawn in lines of fire and brilliant hues now all is a fading history