Delectable Dee

With the moon so low
threatening to drop
I see the ebony cloud drape a mantle
over the freckles of light
and I feel the dewy caress of the wind
on my face that's glaced with tears.
I reach out only to sift frigid air
with fingers grarled from hands
clenched tightly into fists of frustrations and pains.
My arms tremble along with each silent sob I take,
my lungs scathed by ashes from yesterday's afterburn.
Darkness is a comfort.
Light has deserted me, perhaps afraid
stung with the shards of my broken cries.
I've no more tears to shed;
perhaps hope is a vanity now.


8/10/2008 01:09:30 pm

hey, i have something for u in my blog. go claim it. :)

8/15/2008 12:01:45 am

Meh, so nice to see u think of me, as *kicks ass ;)
lubbershoes dee :D <3


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