Monday, March 24, 2014
Temple
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.
Black harp and morning doves, I keep this silence of mine together.
In case any whispering become voices,
they heard right.
Sanctuary is the temple I seek from your lips.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Sweet Spirit
At night, the stairs of this old house creaks Whispering to me, sweet spirit sleeping soundly during the night. The shadow movements, the ...
-
Many pieces torn into shreds, year by year. Fragile bits cracking gently but never mending. To the core that binded never was. We traveled...
-
Forgive me for being on this fast track, This train keeps passing the stations I’m suppose to be getting off. A night here in paradise h...
-
Time did not stand still It shaped its road for us to leave the past To rain soaked pavements, fallen leaves, high altitudes underneath the ...
No comments:
Post a Comment