Rosewood

Golgo

Historia delenda est
Those grasses and days may they fall
That their roots dry out in the sun
They bear the end of life
Swaying washing on the line before
The final sweeping away
I wrench free of memory
I withdraw my consent, you no longer
Constitute a part of me
I will not have you profane
My divot of whispered mortar
Were that dust be burned and blown
I keep as my original sin
The blasphemy that death
Is not my most merciful god.

@nepion_boreas17