The crack creates a warbled picture,
as the world goes on living, I feel a perpetual still ness. Yet it all moves out there.
The stream of white fluff, gracing the earth.
Awaiting the warmth to once again
give birth to life
As I wait.
Answers? There are none.
As streams of clear, life
Strains across my cheeks.
I can not fix.
I can not mend.
I can only wait.
To sit next to you.
To hold you.
To share a hankerchief. Soaked with the essence.
The essence of tears, of us.
Prospects of life.
Then there to be none.
My Other Projects
As you can see, if you've been around these parts before, these are new digs. I am still fiddling with all the elements. Pardon the expe...
Lost within these cold wallsbanished to a life of banal pomp and circumstance Keeping appearances to par convincing the masses that th...
In the absence of who Lost in the what wandering amongst the where Concerned of when Knowing I am here not there Still in the absenc...
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