The tick, tick, ticking clock resounds off the walls of the tiny room, reminding her each second she is alone. It’s always the same, she awakens, moves to the window and sits. Waiting.
Bed of roses Bed of thorns Thorns of life Thorns of sin Sin is the cause Sin is the lust
Saudade lurks in shadows dancing caressing this barren heart with icy fingers searing hot tears scalding cold cheeks and I am alone in this storm of grief
“Sadness flies away on the wings of time.”– Jean de La Fontaine Sing to me while the fiddle weeps heartrending
And in the middle watch hours, Loneliness cries out your name as I reach for the cold pillow where your head once lay.
“Just beyond the bruised lips of consciousness.” from Birds Again ~ Jim Harrison The stars once bright in eyes now faded and gray viewing the world through tangled trees a purple haze of permanent contusions, amid barren thoughts of rotting leaves… Continue Reading “Crushed”
Sadness suits you, telling your story by the candle’s quivering light drinking the fruit of the vine a cloak of panacea for the soul.