There's history
In the rooms
In scattered cutlery
A memory's projection
With every stain
With every imperfection
We're tiny dots
On an endless time-line
On endless thoughts
Just like the ruins
We're frail
We're frail
We will surrender
To our skeletons
To everything we remember
The walls didn't discriminate
Who was there or
Who felt hate
Relationships revocable
Is our past valid?
Is our past disposable?
We lay sleeping
Under lost promises
Under the crumbling ceiling
My dear
We shall depart
We shall disappear
For dwelling on the past
Is for fools and
Is for poets who never last
------
TEXT & PHOTOGRAPH:
MOHAMMED J. BELHOUL
INSPIRED BY:
LA DISPUTE'S ALBUM
ROOMS OF THE HOUSE