pray this memory
tell no lies
in light
of truth
since shone
to strip me
of my last reprieve
pray not
these newly fallen whispers
speak ill
of our erstwhile tales
should they unravel
all my world
would vanish
into despair
for every sinuous
sorrow felled
arose
a sanctuary
that once
we shared
to dare
such dreams expire
but time
forever
radiates
in solemnity
and thus i am fraught
with this aching moor
of that which
i can never
come to mourn
Max, or Not 