Verus
I can almost remember...
Taste it in the lyrics
falling from your lips.
Oh, and what a fragile thing it is...
We hold together memories
threads of the past.
Within brittle frames of mind.
Echoing off paper walls
caged somewhere inside.
And you've never been completely sure...
What's a rose reborn of sand
from what's an hourglass that's tipped.
But there's a taste within your words...
Like the broken webs of fairy-tales
burning into dust.
And if it's in your eyes it's dark...
But there's unwilling acceptance
in the coming of a storm.
How can you fight the war...
When insight is as forbidden
as the fruit?
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