Sunday, August 21, 2011

A conversation with the Guardians

A day of greatness
A day of joy
but the same story
told again and again

At its conclusion
the light faded
The fun disapated
And I am left
an old man
filled with regret

So I went as is custom
To those grounds
that nexus of power
that site of decay

To summon my demons
to converse with the night
reconcile my uneasy solution
to walk upon the beams

They spoke
their words ring true
that slip i carry
that last resort
that note of death

reassert my position
Reconfirm my haste
forget these distractions
Burn away this fate.

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