As dusk tenderly descends over the world, night awaits, with moist eyes and fingers curled,
Forlorn, for her lover is about to depart,
As the brooding moon grieves, in the shadow of sepia leaves,
I'm beginning to read the poetry in my heart.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Return
No more do raindrops burst my dreams,
Never again will tears refuse to flow,
Among the thousand pearls scattered around,
I'm the one in the salty ocean below.
Not like every drone of misery,
Who in the glow of cold comfort basks,
Would rather be a disfigured face,
All alone in a sea of wooden masks.
Tired of living within the lines,
Leading a life of dots and dashes,
On fire, I set myself once again,
Just to kneel and gather my ashes.
The shackles all lie burnt and broken,
Like hope born out of every strife,
As my past holds its breath,
This is me, coming back to life.
No more a firefly in daylight.
Never again will tears refuse to flow,
Among the thousand pearls scattered around,
I'm the one in the salty ocean below.
Not like every drone of misery,
Who in the glow of cold comfort basks,
Would rather be a disfigured face,
All alone in a sea of wooden masks.
Tired of living within the lines,
Leading a life of dots and dashes,
On fire, I set myself once again,
Just to kneel and gather my ashes.
The shackles all lie burnt and broken,
Like hope born out of every strife,
As my past holds its breath,
This is me, coming back to life.
No more a firefly in daylight.
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