where words go quiet beneath the dying sky
bound by tears and memories that lie
one dove to the heavens
one to the hells
no amount of searching can find
what was lost
lilt tongue
speak clash amidst bleak tomorrow
shades caul
Last time to borrow
Not worth the paper
inks run dry
taking paths furrowed deep
etched lines
dull ache gives way to blurred visions
not enough for anyone
to love
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Pelgris 
By the power of…
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I don’t know what that means. 3×3 is 9, 9 days until the anniversary of the death of my Morgan.
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