Have you forgiven them yet?

The moon,
for it gives you out no secrets.

The stars,
for their beauty
which often hurts your eyes.

The sun,
for it never dies, unlike us.

The dead,
for their silent smile.

Have you forgiven them yet?
I ask

myself.

Your eyes sang the song of loss
And I recognized the chorus

I fear the way you love me:
That tender-touching kiss
Seducing me to nightly
Sink deep in your abyss.

Those smooth caresses take me
To places that I dread,
Your cunning fingers rouse me
To plan such lies ahead.

But while we writhe and tumble
In lust's hypnotic hold,
I fear the final stumble
That will see the truth unfold.

When a project has been abandoned, creators of said project will solve small, irrelevant problems, so as to give themselves an ounce of satisfaction, rather than just solve the problem as a whole.

Can you see the soil softly shake
As the once-dead zombies burst from it?
They're being revived,
Though they were left to die and decay.
The ice is melting,
And the heat is increasing
Into a blinding fire.
When I finally felt free,
The dead seeds I planted months, years ago
Are slowly sprouting. (A miracle? A curse?)
The world is repeating,
Like they told me it would.
I'm terrified.
The scenes I have escaped
Are creeping around the corner,
Like now-alive zombies.
The memories that I threw to the snow,
They are beginning to grow,
Like flowers in Antarctica.