You were lost in the sea of stark
Shallows of your doubting heart,
Now I've gone from there
Yet I know you still feel me.

Her stone flowers will bloom and spark
Inside the stagnant gardens of every dark,
But when her everything has gone -
At least she'll have nothing.

One last gift for you, before we part -
Take the promise that burns, then breaks my heart,
When my words escape you, love
Still sings her slow memories.

The spell of lies, loss, then consequence
Breathe soft life into her first pretence,
Now he calms the mixture in me
Beneath the boughs of an old Cedar Tree.


Penned by my hand on the 8th of Lanosian, in the year 133 MA.