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Loose words

There's a strange feeling that grows where the mountains glow|

Lilacs mascaraed an earthy feel|

Glares pass cadences from poems of past|

Holding reverence in an ever-changing world|

Weighing upon Atlas' shoulders|

Strength comes in vexing times|

Through smiles and gales|

The concoction of a tragedy never fails|

As we plunge towards the depths of a well|

Our voices recorded and echoed where we fell|

The story will be foretold as a myth once experienced|

Expired from memory|

Bellowed from a clergy|

The cycle ending with a cry from her belly|
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Location: Alexandria, United States

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