Rendered

we left in pieces once rendered from such malign, from token majesty to new chapters, in lead strokes from pencils across oceans I can never erase a past, but I'm always left remembering, and in that quiet gale unsteady state of mind I think back to the beaches and our ready, set, decline. the past was all once rendered and the drawings cast aside we walked along the beach with reason, and the sea that stole our rhyme.