John Martin

John Martin
Great Day of his Wrath

Monday, 20 December 2010

Grindstone

Sea of grey washing over, rays piercing through.
Reminding us of sublime liberty squandered.
Meanwhile we build our ivory towers
Burning our bridges in solitary solidarity

Hoping for them to come home, again.

So empty and drained like ghosts
And what is left…When all is gone?
Just memories of them and what we loved and lost.

Forever shades of endless haze,
Broken dreams in concrete shades.
Nothing to lose.
Everything to gain.

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