faces carved in stone
carved visions of grey
you’re so covered in moss, my pretty
not this potters clay
there’s no room for my renditions
now these memories are mine alone
in a rush these blades are dulling
from chisling my own faces of stone
you won’t remember it as i do
that your truth was never mine
the giver truely owns what’s given
these statues only remind
you couldn’t take the visage, because it wasn’t mine to give
you couldn’t slay it, that you might live
it moved in you the way it moves through me
and as the wind of it rushed around us
i shed the tear you refused to see
look away...
rend your eyes and look away
with my heart that breaks with sympathy
as i've watched you fade to grey....
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