-
Of withered roses we had sung,
Of grace decayed and fractured
A head once proud now grey and hung,
The rotting frames of structures.
From sand and clay the gates were built,
To them they now return
Ashes from life, and life to silt
With no-one left to mourn
From memories of bygone glory
The tales will soon be born
Yet we were more than just a story
'Till from our bodies we were torn
- by LorgusInjection |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 07/18/2012 |
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Part 2
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