There’s a place
Far and hollow
But for the debris
The scrap a storm
Long since passed.
But no one quite realized it
Sitting through the turmoil
Accepting the lie of a gentle breeze.
Yes, not until it passed
Was it finally acknowledged
By all but one
They cannot move forward.
In denial
And confusion
Angry and upset
Lost in the debris
The aftermath
The dirt
All but void.
~ Quill
