duminică, 30 august 2009

waning summer

the sun has fallen
by night befallen
this last day of summer
tastes sweet and bitter
this little time left
full of sighs and tears, bereft.

there is no right
there is no wrong
there is just feeling
naught but emotion
forward motion of time
backward draw of mine
drawn by those tears of thine
tonight in hell i shall dine

for i shall eat alone in my confine.

no sunset over the city vista
no friend at the seaside fisher
no lover across the table
no savior like in a child's fable

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