What were we
Upon a time
When Heaven did open its gates
To endless gusts
Of our curiosity?
We were sentenced to ruin,
With fable, stain in heart,
To the ink
With endless marks
On the empty page.
This love that holds us near
Whites us out in holiest books.
What disused
Colors of ending tracing
That never did forfeit the blaming
We used to sample.
White castles,
Endless scenery
Of kind stories, of cruelest endings
Where the words go missing.
Dark phantoms
Leading our hearts across
The skyline,
The borderline of our designation,
And of something more miserable
Than a heart with a crutch.
Of the veins gathered together
In unwarranted surrender,
Within places
Where we never mattered.
Well done
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