Wednesday, March 30, 2011

By Candlelight, By Crutch

By candlelight,
In seclusion,

The feelings wrong,

The feelings right,

In this space,

At this time,

A flickering flame,

Illuminates this night,

In the Morn,
Silence is worn,

Like hope is sold,

To tattered refugees,

Knowing well enough,

Yet enough doesn’t matter,

If it did, this would surely last,

All days merge, into nights before,
An image reveals its truth,

In such vivid animation,

The thought bears promise,

The thought’s corrupt,

Here this moment,

In this frame,

A reunion with a crutch known all too well

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