Sunday, May 8, 2011

on the crossroads of time

White heat.
Souls scarred by dusty winds.

The azure bowl lends no respite,
Tired leaves forget to flicker.

 Hope is a forgotten foe.
Memory, the stain of dried tears
Imagination, dots of paint at the tip of a quill.

Meanings elude
Silence stifles
like an age old curse
life skulks 
as I stand
On the crossroads of Time