Albany, 4:24 pm
Verse 1...
Solitude Swing
Verse 1...
No Title No. 4
PC screen islands...
Dreary steps through Salem's ground, beseeched by...
The chalice draped by burgundy mire, matrilineal...
Trailing downward spiral,
in a saline revival...
On my way to find
a bluer pasture...
Incandescent whispers
star-streaked lips...
A withered rose on complacent soil
marked by innocence in recoil...
If life is devisible by years, months, days, hours, minutes and seconds. And if in the paradigm of quantitative blurs love is found and removes the person from such confinements. Then does love free one from life? |
My heart is but a needle that made a few burgundy stitches in the gray fabric of life. |
Salvation comes as saline: sweat, tears and the ocean. |