Saturday, March 2, 2013

A Poem by Solace Befriends

When I come back, and everything is dreck
What was once refracts, shows me then, up to the neck
these sullen poems come to life proper
only when you deign to join the opera.
Seen from above with eagle-eyes as interference
they do not speak of love but only shared experience
So now, I close the screen, forgetting scenes of late;
forgetting what I've seen; remembering things as great.

I will not sacrifice the past to battle the truth
- that what was gold was twaddle.

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