Gord

2026-10-06 08:05 pm

Lamps of gloom, shine down,
Plants grow inside like flowers,
Like romance grew,
Then wore me out.

Thank you, right now, 
Then forever, into the past.
You, showed me who I am,
Never talked to me again. 
Not that it mattered,
Enough was said. 

Under tortured eyes, 
I stand forgiven.
White crown, great river,
In the end, wiped out,
So it mattered little.