• It resides in pale eyed faces
    All but ash yet naught but dust
    Empty lots; forgotten places,
    it leaves us memories - traces.

    What the world never understands
    She encompasses fully.
    and this unknown factor -- fear demands
    And no one lends a hand.
    It pleases withered widows,
    and seals the cracks of broken hearts.
    It seeps through tight sealed windows
    and brings question to changing arts.
    It lives on in all our faces
    leaving lines for traces.
    And breaking withered bones
    living on in drones
    turning sand to stone.
    It lives, and breaths, and keeps forever.
    In all but unknown places.