Saturday, April 25, 2009

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oh why does my soul refuse to rest.
it bounds up,
against gravity,
like there were thorns that pricked its underside.
refusing it rest.

oh my soul has a bloody breast
a weary heart
that longs to rest,
but somehow each night is day
in its unending search to run away.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

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I stare out,
As the orange-pink of sunset
Fades away into silhouettes,
Large dark trees, rise up
And the cold road leads away.

The breeze whips at my face,
The curtains buffeted in the strong wind,
Fly around uncontrollably like shreds,
My heart feels the same,
As it leaves sweet memories behind.

Parting can never be harder.

15th April 2009