sábado, 26 de julho de 2008

black light district.

blaming global infection
for the illness in him
Little knowdledge of the non-affection
between him and his

Oh, grey, bitter, anxious and collapsed.
Like a wallflower once blooming
withered to apparent death

Blaming the guilt
crying the tears
torture the pain
leaving the emptiness behind

apparently he had no reason
to harbour the trust
he´d forsaken the trust
that harboured within

walk, I cannot walk
for I am blind, blinded I am
by the pitch of dark, so dark is it
the narrow street, never ending narrow

silently I try
try to walk, blinded by the pitch
the narrow darkness, clogs the street
I am speechless
I am speechless

fears puts a rush on my steps
as I stare into the spinning depth
the end is not near the sight that I am hoping for
and all the light that paves the way for me
is the wish and will for the end to see

the bright light is the end of the black light district.

the gathering.

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