Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Untitled

A bruised hand,
a silent tear.

A broken hope,
a faded dream.

The night sky,
the morning glaze.

Thoughts,
words,
music.


All have given away to haze, haven't they?


A dejected spirit,
a lost sanctity.

A helping hand,
anyone?

Still breathing at 20:55
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