Fade

My muse has been misplaced,
Lost in brooding Trojan suburbs,
Where the torches sparked from embers of faded glories,
A place granting of only partial relief.

Where does her mind rest?
Do we dote over forgetful memories
that once were to be held dear,
Once kept on our breasts,
or in words on paper.
Do we dwell on our eyes?
Both green and blue.

Let us let the colour grey.

Author's Note

Any feedback welcomed!