Disease in the pocket Futile wisdom in passion Grounded rock and snow In pictures by the sea Thinly worn, the old dress fell In a room of darkness Behind the dusty pain Many things fell Loosing their position in the world Though their cause or motive was found Except the stone tears Once, they had flowed from desire Now turn to dust Faint doves perched on the roof Such symbols of purity and innocence They staid without questions And had razed only once But they remain