searching

mingling calls
laughter layered over salt water dripping down rouged cheeks
grey skies, pale clouds
whispers of loss emtombed behind crumbling walls
only the trees and i will hear your cries

but we have bandaged our wounds
if poorly
in hope

if i had one more day than the ones i have …

crackling fire
soft candlelight
carbon dioxide floating
burning wood and wax
say, something can be won

there is a searching man inside my heart
who enters this achromatic landscape
and buries his head in his hands one more time

the trees and i will hear his cry
the trees and i will watch his death
and i alone will search no more

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