Remember Me

The dead don’t speak, but they are not voiceless. Through rock, steel, and blood they have already spoken. Their grand task has already been completed. For better of for worse, they have had their say. I pity the living. Still searching for their voice, the tone in which they will speak, trying to find some consistency in the words they will spend their entire lives utterly. More than anything though I feel bad for whoever is listening. How many times can you hear slight twists of the same tired pleas before you just stop paying attention? Remember me. Please, for the love of all, do not forget that I was here. Remember me.

About Tietsu

Someday the words that fill my brain will fill cheap paperback books. Until then, I will collect them here.
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This is where words go

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