Grey

We spent our time together
building a tomb,
but when it was ready,
you were gone.

So, I filled it
with the ashes of the words
I had written for you.

I still lay down flowers,
whenever I pass by,
and light a candle
when the time is right.

But, I don’t make it by often,
it is too far out of the way.
And the flowers I buy,
are like the words that I write,
they both turn to dust.

It all turns to dust in time,
even the tomb,
full of your ashes
and the mind,
that once thought
you were a goddess.

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