| Written: DEC 28, 2003 |
The stuff of dreams,
The stuff of nightmares.
The sweet oblivion,
Of lost life.
That which is still living,
Yet too troubled to go on…
Look to the light,
For it bears salvation.
Does it now?
For it is an atrocity.
To my sensitive orbs,
Seeking those that dwell in it.
I still feel the recoil,
The retreat.
The dark places,
Away from Sanctuary.
To Darkness.
