Echoes of Fireflies
You found me punching in a dream
Weak willed and dying
Sinking too fast in a world I was crying
Out into the wilds of the potentials I could only dream of in bloom
Sadness swept on through in the '97 of that June
I dreamed of days where there was more than lonely places of dying watching the winters that had taken
a desert rose I was pining.
Locked in catacombs where I was the gatekeeper to myself
You softly chipped away of the heart hanging on the shelf
Embalmed as a boy the panic room now decayed
Where parents sutured up the mouth that repayed everyone back in curses that mounted heavy debt
Where minds lay fractured and scattered at the re-runs of death
Catacombs guarded by the neglect, truth, and years that decorated dust triumphs in jeers.
Endless parades that locked the rooms with ease.
Graveyards becoming the new marquees.
Ravioli hills that marked the endless of our days where wells of despair anchored us in the midst of the twilight gaze.
Swimming uphill where our lives abandoned like boats mid build slowly embedded the anthems of what, when, why and how we were killed.
Softly sobbing in the bedrock of canals long run dry
Entering in sunlight becoming an ascending tide removing all landing gear the dream was not a lie.
Calmly forfeiting lasting debt that litter the walls of the mind
Becoming the fruitful bet, the sweet fruit from vine.
The slow drain of faithful treks the steady mountain climb standing on the peaks of yet sweeter with it's wine.
Foaming for longing thirst of never ending tears as the vines they collect the neglectful haunting years
Floor boards they renew in the polish that he provides
Walls they healed from fears of the ever present eyes.
Gaunting longing faces that twist in the night
Fade in fearful bets of their ever wasted time
Fire consumes the tearing lies
They made their beds in the coals and bellows of time itself
The slow retracting hands that slip back into the recesses of thine
Tracing and repenting the first and lasting things
New skin, and new names
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