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There is no greater sorrow than the pale imitations of our past

These deformed memories that bade our ear to do as asked

Perpetual hauntings

From our brackish sight

To look back through ages (in horror)

And bathe us in scalding night

Our death valance, luminous veil

Recollection reformed in boundless light

Illuminate

Anamnesis in horrid white

Can we recall the last shreds of happiness?

Can we live in these slivers of time?

Let us conjure a future upon corrupt mental images of the past…

And feign victory

beguiled by what we know to be true

oppressive, melancholic gleam

veiled for a time of ever-diming shine