Thursday, January 19, 2012

Washed Asunder

Something I just wrote this morning

Happiness springs from
countless untold tears
joy can not be known
without the misery
brought from sorrow

The eyes fill like
thirsty desert sands
and pour like torrential
midnight storms
lost in the abyss of
inglorious agony
there is no light
to see the path

for there is no path
it has been washed
and there are no steps
to take for there
is no one left
to take them


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