Crawling out of the darkness
Across the bridge of life
Into a world of light
I first met my mother
Her face drawn
With sadness in her eyes
Her existence meager
Her milk sour to my lips
The coldness of her skin
Sent shivers through this old soul
Yet I clung on tight to a heartbeat
To life
Nourished by a life of crime
The coldness grew
As my soul yearned for something warm
To suckle, to hold onto
On dieing streets I traveled
Stepping over the dead and dieing
Passing by the needy
Watching the forgotten hiding in the shadows of despair
This is my world
The one place I feel a warmth you can’t make up
It’s the only truth in the world
Spoken in the eyes of the living dead
My feet splash through puddles of tears
Shed by souls filled with their own fears
The puddles grow into a lake, then a river
A river of souls to be washed away silently, forever
Only the warmth of their passing remains
Until the shadows take over once more
Sending a chill through those that remain
The ones left to fill the puddles once more
Walker
Friday, August 22, 2008
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