Do

With words of meaning all reduced to naught
And half the words that came before, it seems we both forgot
So all that can remain are where the pins
Pressed into the flesh, so we remember how to bleed but never quite where all the agony begins

I look upon this old and weary loom
Where words I used to weave but now it’s just an empty room
That harbors only memories obscured
By the tearful toil and the effort to retain whatever worth can be reclaimed or else endured

Sometimes I think the sun and moon collide
I swear there’s still an echo left of what was not denied
But so has every phantom ever been
Passing as a dream before the epilogue erupts and takes the breath from all the words we’ll say again

So quietly I let the echoes fade
Becoming like the promises so many lies have made
And what there is to say, I’ve not a clue
I brush away the webs that held eternity anew and then accept that in the end there’s really only so much magic I can do