A/N: My heart now rests in those marshes and mausoleums of New Orleans, the city where dreams are moisture in the air, a thing that you feel cling inside you as drops of sorrow coating the interior of your lungs. This city of time and timelessness holds a part of my there for safe keeping should I want to reclaim it from the swirling cypress and living green. There it lies, and always shall, a tomb, a dream, a chrysalis and catalytic of water and earth and fire.

Swamp Cemetery

Rotting gateway

Bronzed and dead

Beaten

Scarred

Cold and dead mounded pyramid

Dais

To death

Urns to house the empty

Room made for more

History

Embraced by rain

Forgotten.

-Avari de Lioncourt