The hay that so short a time ago was long, lush grass, with fragrant meadow-sweet and gold-eyed marguerites growing amongst it in the green meadow-land by the river, is now dry hay—fragrant still, though dead, and hidden from the sun’s warm ray... Read more of Arachne at Urban Myths.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Weathered Tome

by: AFI








They're coming 'round again. I've returned and they've been waiting.
Their aged offererings received and returned, passed through wet eyes.
I tremble as I feel them rolling in for, my sins, the old ghosts know.
So chilling as I feel them mourn within my soul. As the mourning grows.
Unfold before me. Turn back the page again.
Twenty four hours spent wishing that the day was never ending.
Shadows of glory shading my heart again.
Recall the summer when I left my heart to cool beneath the shadows I'm coming 'round again.
I've returned and no one's waiting.
I strain my eyes to see but it's so hard to read the old tags on the fallen walls.






Next: Who Knew?

Previous: Wake-Up Call



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