---

Dead, withered where they stood
for their last prayer
limbs outstretched
breathless and forlorn
lifeless sculptures
mold by my hands

Here nothing lives, nor grows
as you delved into my eyes
behind the mask
beyond the gates
and saw this colourless landscape
of dust and scattered bones

Fall of cinders
I will remain here for awhile,
with you in silence
because
there's beauty in desolation
there's beauty in death

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