Archive
12/05/08 - (4)
Wail
Emptiness and loneliness are interwoven into my essence; They claim suzerainty over my spirit. How else can I confess my soul's genealogy,
Tell you how much pain suffuses my bone marrow, Flows through my bloodstream, Invades my brain's synapses, collapses my veins?
Worst of all, my sorrow's loon-call wail Pervades the dark night of my cold desolation, Fills its golden full moon with crimson sorrow,
Which forebodes the endless rest of my closing days, As they fester in a state of perpetual sadness, Beckoning death, thirty years too early.
12/05/08 - (4)
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