Image –by Shi-Nya-Nya The Songs Were like Dust In my Bones Aching Yearning to be released Blood stained fingertips Becoming fingerprints Along the edges Of the Cave wall I bury my heart deep Betwixt the hedgerow A shadow of the Land Beneath my feet I stomp Out the remedy and the rhythm To songs long forgotten That reside On the tip of our tongues These songs Were like dust Rising again from the bones Swirling Rising on the winds Of memory And were tasted R