A shadow play for the wicked

Time fires an arbalest
Year by year the pain grows the lesser
Though instead of sharp
We find the dull ache of loss
And the fading taste of the world
This destruction which once stole away years
Now lasts a long morning but still
It never fades completely
Even as every memory but the pain leaves
As if what was belonged to another me
Who has since passed away
Faded in the firelight

2 thoughts on “A shadow play for the wicked

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