In vain...

A torchlight procession. 

A search party for what's lost.

Screaming their names in a forest:

Meaning, Purpose, and Control.

 

The screams are primal

And tainted with despair,

For there's no talisman to rival

The booted march of time,

No sign compellingly apotropaic

To make a dent in history's mosaic. 

◄ Mnemosyne

Stuck On the Inhale ►

Comments

Holden Moncrieff

Fri 2nd Apr 2021 00:39

Thank you, Philipos 😊

Profile image

Philipos

Thu 1st Apr 2021 17:48


A dent in history's mosaic, great line.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message