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Saturday, December 20, 2008 - ore 11:37
willo’the wisp
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
Warm embrace of your hand, memories like salt on a wound, dominate my new
Found spirit land.
Seeking wisdom in the darkness hovering helplessly around our pain crying
With absence of real tears, like a child born in vein.
I can no longer bear to watch you cradling my form. Wrenching out bloody
Drops of desperation’s futile storm. Welcome to the Willothewisp my love.
Deaths arduous game. Mocking times insanity foreshadowing years of reign.
-Ancient-
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