Thursday, May 01, 2003
Beyond This
Beyond this hangs a shroud of tears,
draped, silver tangled in its humblest hue;
a pall of memories, torn of years:
heartless in the heart’s finest dew.
Beyond this is where it lies,
made ruddy in its rise of faith;
an extension of hands joined, beautified;
where mist clouds the face
hemmed with the skeletal scars of wet eyes -
flood a water purest in dreams;
whose descent is a mournful embrace,
drained, sufficient in its supply
of denial. Beyond this
is a light, an innocent, admiring praise.
this is beautiful :) have i mentioned tt i'm a lit student?? ;p
10:43 PM