That quiet place of acceptance seems so far at times.
It's deep in the recesses of my mind,
taunting and teasing with shadows and lines.
I'll get there.

If I keep looking long enough I'm bound to uncover
the foggy memories of youth and lovers
I pushed so far back but yearn to discover
anew.

The air of that place is the mist of divine
that envelops it's charges who wait there, entwined
not knowing they are nothing but symbolic shrines
of who I was.