The varnish has worn away from where my foot steps fell
In life\'s battle for grace I have wounded her too deeply
Savage scars mar what once was infant skin
Time only retraces its steps, in the mind
where it travels as hands of a clock
always returning to where it begins
Here love, now myth comes to die
in its perpetual whirlwind of circling vultures
Its bones picked by fouls of carrion
Stench of once sweet, now rotting meat
draws me near the drone of flies
that suck the marrow out of seductive hunger for all but scavengers
Now but shadows cast
they too shall fade as memory\'s remains, swept by sun
into piles of darkness await broom\'s bristled rays
to clear away caressing cobwebs, the kiss of night