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slice of life

September 1st, 2005

picking up the dread,
casting off the fear,
shedding needless tears,
deaf are the idle ears.

cold the words that fall,
shattering on burning ears,
as though spoken to a wall.

droplets from a burning eye,
running down inside,
begging to know why.

shadows of a nameless thing,
waiting for the final sting,
finding nothing left to cling.

upon this thing I lay my hand,
this is not what I would have planned,
yet will I stay and make my stand.


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