Flashback~
In memory of trees and the whisper of saints,
i stand listening to silent prayers.
Captured short of heaven, the murmuring waves of sadness and reproach.
Such is the nature of men to make of a new God.
I wish for peace, for nothingness, for solitude that does not hunger nor regrets that once found refuge within fragrant roses–
clutching her pen upon life’s echoes to live free amongst innocent dreams and loving sunshine.
Where miracles were real, nightmares burned long into the night.
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