Hollows of Tranquility
A mossy haze shrouds all the life once enduring
Youth once encased the stony garden, complacently assuring
Now entwining vines slither toward the withered manuscripts
Documenting what was never comprehended by these residents
Chiseled sorrows drown the lilies as the bells groan on resounding
None linger who suspect the true forebode of these surroundings
A facade of tranquil slumber masks unsetteled desparation
As their cold decrepit souls thirst for earthly restoration
Those themselves entombed in shadows seek each flicker of remembrance
Serving as disturbing paradigm, the fate of their descendants
Embers of disdain remain, eternally persisting
For the enigmatic chasm barring these souls from existing
Faded roses bathed in moonlight rest, indifferent hollow shells
Of a vibrant soul constricted between dewy-eyed farewells
Frosty, cracking columns binding obsolete vitality
Monuments of degradation won't obscure reality
Torturing the comprehension of undaunted intellect
The unfeasible unnerving in their present retrospect
Yet this all cloaked by placid pretense fabricates a fantasy...
...A technicolor casing for morbid reality
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