This trench hidden away up upon the second floor
from here , safe inside this fort,
battles fought , some won, some defeated
glory juxstaposed by bloodshed and tears
invisable now , thier stains upon the flaking paint and grubby faux-wood floors
the remnants of the past two years
If only walls could talk they would reprimand me now
for the countless acts of cliche carried out under this roof
but lessons have been learnt that much is true
although implementing them later on is far trickier fare i am sure
memories fade faster in other times and spaces
things become dreams of dreams ,
forgotton promises, forgotten faces.
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