Inherent Memories

 

A memory of the majesty, might and moors,

The tumbled boulders, tipped and torn,

Space in silence stands and soars,

Across these peaks so withered and worn.

 

I see,

A sea that used to be,

Cold water, ice and floating debris,

Their mark laid bare,

A difference in the air,

From the canyons of a cityscape,

No longer in need of desperate escape.

 

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