Palimend

Oh dusk intended silences & corners pulling yellow

With valleys for their styluses & graphics for her fellow

Our Sunday morning starknesses sang false endearing senses

A frame of preening darknesses made mortar for their fences



It is not over, you just don't know what you have done



When we're nervous for all our sins in grainy wilted blessing

Deserved of whistling cardinal winds while gravity's redressing

Oh smokepure strain of meeknesses & deathly-bound allying

Too many little sweetnesses, so much life in denying



I always wanted you to know I never wanted you to go

Your savior dies in empire glow but never tries to let it show



Thanks to razvan