The Object of Memory

unseen yet felt.

across rooftops.

a whisper of euphoria mapped.

Truth, iron chains.

Fingers trace the edges of the sky.

Time yawns wide.

A single tear, uninitiated.

Chess pieces dance in the temperate abyss.

The echo, conforming to walls.

If you dare, sit on the edge of Cleansing Rain

Follow the shadows to Memory Path