Saturday, October 30, 2010


The waning moon in dark skies 
A crow calls, a voice of doom 
The winds blow and waters flow 
Past ancient walls of stone 
Desolate places in a desolate land 
Heart is empty, soul bereft 
Alone in this place 
Alone in this time 
Hot tears fall down hollow cheeks 
From eyes that are now blind 
For too much once was seen 
Reaching out, to touch nothing 
Seeking ever to find something 
To find a way to end this horror 
And break the walls at last. 

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