Cursed

petals plucked, reaching the wrong answer.

This dark apperal that drapes...

Leaving an abyss.

Standing on edge.

Mystifying to the thought.

Understanding a deep sadness.

Finding no little light of mine...

I wonder where she shines.

 

My dark patron saint's

Holding my cold comfort.

In deep dispair...

Holding me there,

beneathe nowhere.

I cradle whats left.

In broken chains.

Hoping is believing in such a day.

That seems only to just fade.

Reviews

[James K. Blaylock]

I really dug the ending to this sad piece...

I cradle whats left.

In broken chains.

Hoping is believing in such a day.

That seems only to just fade.

jkb