Daylight ( Archived) (4)

In darkness,
Everything is frightning,
Losing ones way in the hollow
Between your ears.

Nowhere is a destination,
Frittering hours, on a mental train,
The lad is cooked inside, I mean
Everything he writes is borderline,
Insane.

Everything he paints
Would scare Salvador himself.
All the notes from his guitar,
Written in a mausoleum,
Echoing off the corpses of
Friends and lovers gone away
Forever.

It's always darkest
In the dead of witching hour.
Flights of bats pass
In the loamy, syrupy night.
The stars wink down,
Nemesis surely one of them.

Waiting for the daylight,
Watching falling stars,
On the nineth green.
Wishing, nay, that's seen its day,
And all I wish for is a clear path,
With no more heartache,
And maybe, a quiet, anonymous end.

"in the loamy, syrupy night."

dark and clinging, sir. These images will stay with me a while.

Thank you.

Watching falling stars,


Light in the darkness. They are beautiful.