Tuesday, July 13, 2004

Darkness

Deathly silence,
in a time of noise.
Where sounds are heard,
but voices no longer.
The still quiet,
an age of reticence,
an era of supressed emotions.
Time a ticking,
seconds are gentle whispers,
like the breeze,
which catches our wings,
lifting us closer to you
you who remains,
eternally young,
as our youth soon leaves us,
stumbling towards ecstacy.

jo