Voices in the shadows
Fingers in the dark
Probing, looking, feeling for something to touch
Something to feel real, life
Words whispered in dark rooms, dark corners
Some sharp, others soft
Daggers and kisses cut just as deep
Blood still runs red seen or unseen
The mind has many shadows
Dark places to hide
A library filled with books of one’s life
Needing to be read
These are the places I go
When I close my eyes
Where the shadows come and take me away
Deep, deep into thought
Ghosts of the past play host as spectres claw at your future
When sleep comes shadows close in
Choking you of any air
You are truly alone now, until you are reborn in the morning
Walker
Thursday, August 23, 2007
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