Tuesday, August 3, 2010


What had I felt? A thousand stars shine with indigo light,

For the eve of man passes, fallen into grey sea, this night.

If only there could be a warm, solemn place, fires bright red,

To rest my sullen heart and head. I find none this night.

The sun dispersed the doubts of day, what long ago was tender,

Harsh coldness lances, deep penetrating, my bitter skin this night.

Winds blow, heavy, an eternity sighs across the face of immoral truth,

You that sullen the moonlight, with chained guilt, you blacken this night.

If our world had no strangers, the songs would all rhyme,

No one, not even I would have to be alone, even this night.

Everything is illusion, minds wandering, wondering, into dark,

I will not give, you will not draw, the blood to feast this night.

I yearn with an insatiable thirst, dry sands do not understand,

Death, why can you not come with silver scythe, this night?

The falcons fly on wings of silken grace, while beneath the trees,

I break, hope shatters, transient electrical bursts: my heart is dim this night.

Should I have known? Faces do not show but ambiguous, this lore,

Who could have known? My sky falls in an instant this night.

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