A winter’s day of faded roses the wind’s symphony rattles my window while I wait for the mist to lift before I can see my life more clearly
Sunlight falls on a face in the crowd in an eternal dance of fleshly pleasure; heavy is the sadness of the world.
People from the past are seen through layers, blurred like ghosts crying in stillness; ancient fragments hidden in dark corners of my restless mind; will I know you when we meet again? how changed with time will those memories compare to the beauty of the twilight that lives in my dreams
I love… early mornings everything pink walking through mist
all I need to give is a little compassion to feel it deeply
Echo breathes from her lips With the first stroke of the dead poet’s pen
Autumn brings a philosophical mood even though the last playful days of summer linger into the waste land of the afternoon where my heart is lost