The place where you used to sit no longer has your shape. Your framed face adorns a wall, now your presence is gone.
The greeting of the morning and a nocturnal farewell, feeling the cold absence of your corporeal frailty.
The dead, held to our mortality by the strength of grioef memories pulling them back. Tears, tear the seams between existence and the ether, we haunt their souls.
My words for you vibrating in the other world allow you no rest, give you no peace. It is not for you I anguish but myself. So go you are free. - Ciaran Burke
Somewhere between the white and blackis the reality that gives life and meaningThe dark outline drawn on white parchmenta shape unfulfilled, undefined […]
Clear and flat unblemished surfacecleaned and shining, returns the lightno bumps to shadow no hollows of darkplain and pure reflecting perfect brigbrightIn […]