The reality gets pale
The moon in the eastdid never go up in smoke
and you never asked
if I believed in God
we
at the cemetery
and the tears
create the mist
all that is left
of the grief
are withered flowers
and burned out candles
but your smile
still takes away
the longing
for you hand
in the silence of my nightmares
the others can't see you
any more
in the clouds
which you called home
your breath
surrounds me
and the reality
gets pale
the voice dances
beside me
and underneath the grass
is nothing
living
Still
you don't need to ask me
Poetry by Candily
Read 589 times
Written on 2008-08-30 at 12:07
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