amuse

He would walk into the fields of plenty,

Refilling his pockets with new treasures.

She laughed dryly at his poor innocence,

All that he robbed her of was loneliness.

- Sir Adam Atriy, Myriad Tiaras Vol. 8

Ghosts

Looking through old sepia photographs,

Faded faces that exist only in memories.

It is not just their absence that hurts us,

It is what is still left of them that haunts.

- Sir Adam Atriy, Myriad Tiaras Vol. 8

Souvenir

It is impossible not to remember,

The time I spent a forever with you.

How I wish I could deceive my mind,

Into believing your memory is you.

- Sir Adam Atriy, Myriad Tiaras Vol. 8