ECHO OF THE LAST so be it if so

There is a point within her spirit that I pierced by my disregard, never sensing that the very thing I trounced has imagined she's sacrificed herself, when it has always been me... A gentle breeze blows across the white-snow. There is echo in its curve, a neck of splendor, a bounty of flesh, a ride on the train of Love, destined to cross into Peace's vision of ever-after, having never witnessed it himself... This is not a tragedy, it was the first of many to come the way of the pathway, the one where seeing is believing, the belief's echo is found in the echo of the last.

© 2015 Mark Richard Prime, I am.


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