And another of his disciples said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But Jesus said unto him, Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead.

– Matthew 8:21-22


Illusions of the Dead

Beyond these barren dunes of life, I know
    you walk in splendored gardens, sheathed about
    with memories exploded inside-out
like roses, growing where no roses grow.

It follows you should madden at my touch,
    should shun my eyes, avoid my plaintive wail,
    should drape across your eyes that pallid veil
which filters “endless” into “not so much.”

O heed my fading voice, you silent ghouls,
    and shut your eyes to heaven’s empty husk.
    Beyond this gloried, golden-shuttered dusk,
the endless dark of close and troubled souls.


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A snapshot of me (Romy)

Hi. I’m Romy. without-feathers.com is my personal site, where I blog and review things and make lists and write bad poetry and do whatever other silly things come to mind. If this sounds like fun to you, it’s probably time to take your meds. But first, stick around and surf my site a little.

I hope you have as much fun exploring this site as I have making it. :)


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