Between the Lines
Beaming waters and amber skies,
Glowing embers; fading in a strangers' eyes.
'Neath the mask and 'tween the lies,
Is where my truth no longer resides.
'Twixt the mountains and the valleys,
Countless histories have been trekked,
Upon the foundations of mournful alleys,
Is where our stone epitaphs we erect.
A flurry of rose petals,
Pausing in the moment's light,
A candle's flame sighs quietly.
In the forest where the willow tree grew,
A history, scattered with its roots.
The answers you seek, it once knew,
Now only savored in the memory of its fruits.
Shimmering moonlight and sable skies,
A friend dreams of fires behind closed eyes,
'tween the stars where the free wind flies,
Is where my truth resides.