It was a stone,
that's all it ever was...

The clock struck twelve,
time for the final call...

He woke me up in the morning,
cutting his hand on the broken glass...

I sat on the silent sand,
as the water trickled below my feet...

It was prime time, the question did prevail,
but to utter those words, every time I failed...

The streets were deserted,
the sun was sucking my soul...

I once had two gods,
one white and the other black...

Rising in a vortex of smoke,
leaving behind this ashen heart...

A silent figure,rowed in the dark,
It had no lust for the silver moon...

She Was Deaf
I thought she was deaf...

It was a blank face,
a symbol of serenity and calm...

In this poem there's no frill,
sorry if it doesn't give you any chill...