And what is left…

By: Aliana Alani ©2016

 

And so it is that friendships
come and go.
And memories that seemed etched in time
begin to fade.

The imports of a life no longer
weave their spells.
Their words and thoughts no longer
holding sway.

And what is left is to the
alchemist pure gold.
A plot of heaven midst a field
of fertile light.

One solitary note. One single chord.
Echoing throughout the endless
chambers of the
Eternal heart.

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