Cynder Malin-Stremlau

In order for Eternity

I tried to write you down

But joy cannot be trapped in page

Nor harmony be bound

If all that was remembered 

Soon becomes forgot

At least i have still a smile

At first a sense upon her brow

Perhaps the shadows grow

The unlike scent upon the air

Of orange brown, of Gold

All at once does dance the wind

Her whispers are enough

Fight Club

Introduction