Panopticon The White Cedars
The white cedar
Remembers
This land before
My grandfather's Axe
Hallowed
The lands he once tread
Hollowed
The grave on his land
Haunted
The heart in his chest
Harrowed
My memories of him
From howling wind to his last breath
The fragrant timber falling into thawing moss
The wrinkles around his eyes
Absorbed private tears of loss
I am nothing as he was
I shared my thoughts with none
My memory carries only landscapes
My endeavors shared with no one
The white cedar
Remembers
A solitary figure
Lost in the fog
Hallowed
The land I tread
Hollowed
The life I lived
Haunted
The heart in my chest
Haunted…
So none will mourn me
Whether I'm delivered or damned
As I respire into finality
None shall hold my hand
No grieving tears
Staining wind burned cheeks
No wails of sorrow
Echoing into the bleak
Just the memory of the white cedars
Standing in the mist
