Its a dark night
And love seems
Like an unlikely refuge....
The stars seem to be lost
In baseless comprehension,
Of why clouds seek
The brighter skies.....
The potholes of her heart
Seem to trip
Many an innocent soul.....
While her gloom flows
An endless turbulant stream....
She knows those thoughts,
Woven in shimmering guilt
Embalming her emotion,
Were never born
To rise at a pure horizon....
But she knows
Somewhere in the blindness...
She must not look back
To steal a glimpse that wont last....
She must not seek more,
Than a brush of her past.....
1 comment:
we keep having brushes from the past, why seek it? why search for what has been and never will be? your thoughts were always meant for the horizon...you need to give it the wings you are denying it....you are a wonderful writer...keep writing
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