History: A Dilemma

Fleeting memories
like wisps of dandelions

dancing.

Hide and seek
treasures like childhood

... leaving, fading. 

Books lie
notes cry

of goodbyes.

Tear-stained collars
burnt wings
flickering candles
shadows closing in.

There is a heavy breath
floating
down
the
golden-marked footsteps
on the way
to a bullet-ridden body.

A new city in the horizon
just looks on,
as one death
fades into, yet,
just another morning.