15/04/03

Apr 15, 2003 by Rose

Slow goes the day, winding its way through the sorrowful fields of oneself until the darkness comes and once again it is time to lie down and be enclosed in a case of darkness like a blanket of coldness. In sleep reality merges and withdraws, its bony finger waves whilst the deformed face of truth gathers and laughs to mine. Your destiny it calls and whispers to me the stark reality of the number that will forever haunt me, it is one. Abate my excuses for there is no justification to quell a heart that is heavy and lamenting for that which it cannot possess. Emotions instruct the heart in studies of silence, so silent one can hear the sound of longing for the one who will claim a right to my soul.