Author: Will Berry
Oh, how far the fall from grace,
To such a dread place,
Where memories become all of tomorrow,
As you are exiled into sorrow.
To remember my innocence,
Looking up at the summer sky,
Clouds forming pictures, images, directions,
And they told me of the future:
Always follow the enchanted dayscape,
It would be good there, where I would go,
Today was good, tomorrow even better,
My world was a joy needing only to last a week,
But it was enough, of course it was enough,
It was all that I would need, I belonged to a lifetime.
Now in the freeze-frames of a spent life,
I retain those remembrances, not the cold of strife,
Thinking back, thinking back,
Just to feel the beauty again of that sacred place,
Where the sun would always warm my face
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