Mountains those climbed
Rocks those scaled
And cliffs those fell from
Are rivers those dammed
Forests those bared
Flats those dug
Those things left behind
Shrapnels of broken words
Truth like summer blossoms
Betrayal in the crimson spills
Are things left behind
Once left the bow
Flint head soaring through
And feathers that follow
No turning, neither twisting
Forward is the only motion
Those things left behind
Distant curses behind the curtain
Carcasses in the tunnel
Puppeteer smiled behind the mask
Are things left behind
Friday, October 16, 2009
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