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