#1565-Seemingly
12/11/2021
A presence,
Now a past.
Memories buried with ashes,
By an olive tree,
In a foreign land.
Unchained from shackles,
Rusted and neglected,
From forgotten times.
A light fog has lifted,
Revealing long-ignored truths,
Hiding nakedly,
From the brightness of life.
Eyes refusing to see.
A self-inflicted blindness,
In search of reality.
But paint peels away,
As iron rusts,
While some shadows,
Unknowingly, linger on.
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