Cataclysmic,
is the union of the shadows,
with the cloak of darkness.
One that sets off birds,
To a million plaintiff cries.
Almost as if the dying day,
is struggling to keep alive.
Poor soul does not realize.
in his death is the seed,
Of the birth of the dawn.
When the sun is gentle,
And some moon strays unconscious,
in the violent sky.
When love is born,
in the pregnant foreboding.
Of another death at the end.
Cataclysmic, this death and birth,
much like the love of my life.
24/5/02
No comments:
Post a Comment