The perfect something.

If I have to be the perfect something,
I would be the perfect ruin;
the splendor that never was
but rumored by decline and sighs.
A romantic vision made
in the stillness of memories
where troubles are forgotten
and perfection reigns.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s