Saturday, May 2, 2015

You Were Always Supposed To Be A Warning -- 2 May 2015

You were always supposed to be a warning
A wildfire can never hold the ocean
But you make me want to try

I was told that love can be so destructive
The kind of force that rots and levels cities
Leaving only deteriorated carcasses of what used to be

My mother brought me to several such cities
Places where she thought no hope could dwell
But I never heeded any advice she gave

I felt no dysphoria in these lonely, forgotten places
Any warnings from my mother have faded in my head
I was too busy archiving architecture and dreaming

You were always supposed to be a warning
There can be beauty to be found in the aftermath of chaos
Even if I'm the only one to see it

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