Ash Struck Soles Poem by Madrason .

Our farewell rituals decay
like trodden paths of mud
before the concrete shovels in
where can we find our traces
what happened with our sullen paces
and how do we recover faces
wiped from our memory
like tastes that are gone
but are still on our tongue
we burn as we turn to the sun
bleak as a polaroid
darkens our void
no mystic mystery
but mysery
with history
what dismay
nothing to return to
in comfort of
dear memory. M