Thousands of belated, stilled lines
So many falling monoliths
Crumbling decay and creep vines
Translating sacred facts to myths
Time wears away the chisel marks
Exposes all the cracks and faults
Sinking, too, the sturdiest arcs
Finally, our progress, it halts
So we die slow with sad repose
Dust becoming our funeral clothes
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Assorted Poetic Musings and Ramblings
PoetryA compendium of my poems. I just needed to put it out here at this point. It's less for you, the reader, as it is for me to know its out here. These poems are not for the faint of heart, mostly because they're bad enough to kill, but also because...
