Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Love
There was a storm that rose from the mountains and produced a song that rivaled
the sirens of the ocean.
And in the ancient glitters of distant heavens,
the angels sometimes bowed their head in astonishing defeat.
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Placed in a hole, I’m waiting for a beacon to shine its light upon my hand. To look at you straight into eyes, cast down up cement memories.... -
We are the agents of despair knocking on your door. If you answer you will see a sickle and scythe, We are not malicious nor will we come af...
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At night, the stairs of this old house creaks Whispering to me, sweet spirit sleeping soundly during the night. The shadow movements, the ...