8 April 2012

Mine.

A machine in which I travel

To places only memories exist

They will not fade

But become solid form

For they are present

As am I

Not in you’re world

Their world

Or my world

But HIS

a place to ignite a loss

To rekindle a dream

Was it a dream?

It is not an imagined realism

So clear to see for it was once believed to be reality

No.

It is a reality that was

Wading through sands rich with time

Staring into eyes once known

Enchanted with those never met

A brilliant gloss of euphoria

Painted generously into every memorie

Heaven?

travismaloneHeaven • Opuss № I