The burdain of the past

I carry the burden with me

The memory of the flame burning though the bone,

The tears, ash grey down pale cheeks,

As the roses bloom against the pale feet.


I’ll carry the burden with me,

To the end, it will bear heavy on my conscious,

Till the last dusk dawns on broken skies,

I’ll carry it till the final nail,

Is bludgeoned threw the wood.


The End

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