I wonder who you are;
Some lost line or verse?
Lost somehow so far;
We can’t now transverse?

You are there in view,
Yet we chose the dark.
And rendered the new
Old, like a lot we lack.

Our acceptance of you
Is not sincere at least,
To admit what we knew
Had outlived its wreath.

Shrouded in some mist
Of age old, yet new norm;
That captured life’s feat
And figured its only form.

We spouse a ghost
And live in cemeteries.
Like a true coffined host,
Scared for our souls stories.

Your place true as cast,
Even if subtle and lost.
History gain from; at last,
Those Cains wives, almost.


(Genesis 4:17)

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