Thursday, November 17, 2005

Out of Time

my eyes burn like sulfur from the ashes of the volcano,
and in the dark light, glowing tonight
pale streets and bitter cold
clashing with steel bladed pupils.

a hardened shell with no rememberence,
inhales the exhust of the air, and in the dank
somewhat broken glass, rolling my head
over and around my neck
calling limpness just doesn't seem right

let the ashes blow away,
the body dissipate in the flurries
and ready, right now,
the stars come down.

the broken start, and last to finish
nothing to be carried away
but past memories
of me, i, who never was.

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