David de la Croes
archaeologist
At night I dig amongst the ruins
of a past civilization
looking for signs
of our lost love
but all I find
is the shards of broken promises.
I call out your name,
but all that answers is the wind
and instead of your charming perfume
my nose is filled with dust
and the stench of decay.
I wish I could lose my fear
that even after my death
I will still wander here
without ever finding you.
https://truml.com