Genur.art

Yesteryear, Hearken back to the places we held in such great esteem, I loved you then with an intensity I do not think you will ever be able to know, Now that sentiment is nought but a faded glow, The misalignment of perspective can be a volatile substance in the cocktail of romance, Ultimately we all dwell in our own minds, We are born alone and we die alone, But I have never known anything else