Within me... Screaming. asking to be released; to flow freely. Life. Fire. Red. My quick-drying blood seeking contact with parchment that will never dissolve...

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Fade

Dreams fade...

As the setting sun
They ebb away
Like dawn
Like twilight running
Away

Dreams end.

Like any happy
Or troubled childhood
Like any story told
By poetry or prose
Like the passing away of

A rose.

We who belong
To the dreams—we
Who dream

We perish.

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