Decahedron
Endings
the life we lived
beyond the structures of cold
will pictures drift aside to white blank
(stares) stairs leading themselves
to doors always shut
from the lives we used to live
closed off
muffled souls
these are fountains without water
mists driven by a violent storm
and for them the blackness of darkness
has been reserved
calling out
beacon in the void
From Letras Mania