Sunday, March 13, 2011




The sharp edge of morning
Comes bittersweet
Forces me out of
Nights sweet retreat

Harsh is the light
Everything so loud
Filth is the matte
Of the beautiful clouds

Everything is hurt
It has all been tainted
The beauty all lost
From this life I've painted

Only the strangers
Who think they see
But they can't conceive
This void in me

I long the dark and quiet
Nights sweet retreat
The silent bliss of nothing
The home I call defeat


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