What Remains

What remains after the ash and flames

When the embers die out and the coals go cold

Where is the Pheonix raising from its grave

All I sense is remorse and rage

 

Who is the keeper of us

Who belong to no one

Where is the home for us

Who wouldn’t recognize one if we found it

 

When do the tides turn

When do the vicious waves stop lapping

Salty wound washing

Pulling me out and adrift

 

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Excerpts from “Max”