The Forgotten

by abbya

I returned from the land of the forgotten
  I rose at the alters and found no stars
I slept by the rivers and saw no tears.

I met orphans with sweet flutes, widows with broken routes
  their black soups with fallen bulrushes and dead roses
In the distance, the sun like flood swallows the quick, lost. 

The Forgotten by abbya

© Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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