scrive

subtlepersona

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Where do we operate in the unknown

The bleak white cathedral
glimmers in the dark gloom
headstones gleam
sleeting stone in
rows wade in the warmth
of swallowed souls

Where to suffer
bleak life
mired in pain
morbid mysticism

silent stretching
wind creaks
no longer swaying
limber earth

forlorn, haggard
man trembles
to hold nimbly his heart
when speared by
the strangle of silence

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