The ghost of you still enchants
The ancient ruins of my soul.
I cannot stop this,
I cannot help this,
This that has us faltering
Has become our deformity.
It is an ever thinning slice of good.

I am uncollected liquid sorrow.
Today's mystery's unsolved tomorrow
As love decays from clay to dust,
Dust which rose to smoke the sun.
I heave with agony for us.
Between tremors of consciousness,
A ripple of genuine angst,
A monument of unchanged things,
At last we've become a timing tragedy.
Yet in my befuddled mind
Comes to ripen your smile.
What we believe no longer matters
Until sacred valor pushes to a head
And with some cosmic luck
We might instead
For just a spell rely on happiness.


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