Thursday, August 18, 2011

August Rush

I step into a world eyes closed. My world
that knows me as the wind comes to burrow
my soul, clenched by the wind so cold; sorrow-
Slipping against the touch of the wind that hurled.
Cold as the air had licked movement, i pearled.
Pale am I, shivery realm, black morrow,
Time pauses it domain, leaves fall furrow.

Decay in sight, no time can grasp my air.
Reaching and surrounded by black i live.
Steps of light had bent forth into meet thee.
Leaving leaves strangled and release and tear,
relief woes my essence to feel; give.
Light shines, leaves blow, and thy reaches cold, free.

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