Snow Writing

what a beautiful gray rose it is.
nostalgia.

be the fading figure in the definite.
no. i can't.

my passion to fight
keeps me alive,
living one day longer

one day longer
to take one more red brick,
for the double tinted windows
of master narratives

and see the sun one more time.

i have burdens to bear in the present--
my present for the future
to behold to appreciate not scold.

my path will soon be an old labyrinth
for others to postulate

my time will be the new nostalgia
for others to commemorate

so lets make it good while i can.

embrace the thoughts solitaire.

then share.

snow writing with no dwarves...