" flower in winter
soon to wither
a life in stone
to see it in bloom
whither do we bemoan?
sleep well april showers,
if ever in winter december
the snow's beauty veiled by cold.
do not mind the unmoving white
tip it over, let it fall once more "
{-+-}
Sunday, April 11, 2004
i hold my knive in still
to cut the dullness in the air
for it speaks with a heavy heart
im lost... lost for words, lost in a world alien to me. mornings appear so distant and foreign
since i enlisted in the saf. on most sunday mornings, i would unwittingly sleep through them
but not today i guess. listening to music from lionel richie, duran duran, crowded house and
the sort somehow kinda made it even worse. damn, im such a sucker for sentimental stuff.
a time to bask in the dawning light
a time to bask in morning's renewing song
a time to partake in words
a time to partake in the grace of this earth
im lost...
lost for words
lost in a world alien to me.
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