Time floated away into a vortex of….of?
She did not know, it was a blur of faces, promises…some kept some forgotten…
Time, even that ruthless taskmaster had greyed….
The jet black of her hair had grey streaks, where the dreams had withered…
So what was the time?
No, she could not tell…
But the winter did not seem to have that nip of expectation…
Now, it was just….cold….
She could still hear the same sounds…
Or were they the same?
Where was the scathing anger, the gentleness of love, the deep throated passion?
They had greyed too …
Vaguely, she recalled that mighty head, now half buried in the dust…
She smiled, leaving her eyes vacant but wise, in the recollection…
Ozymandias, the unconquerable…vanquished at last…
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