Poetry (words)


He carved a name into the oak like a whisper in history. My fingertips trace its outlines of familiarity like a part of him remains unabated, embedded here. 

Silence fills the mind and the lessons of a lifetime swathe me without regret. Only in abandonment can love be given honestly, completely.

I take comfort in the solitary spark that rises from the dying embers. Its path unclear, but its brightness brings warmth to the darkest sky as the memory becomes a star.


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