Bare golden box incased in a burst of flames.
Cling to materialism - swords - broken chains.
Sleepless passenger behind locked doors;
Crouched under the moonlight - heaven struck.
Angry rains in storm water waves,
Dubskeleters endless search in a cold case.
16° longitude to 8° latitude - dynameter path,
Black rock close to shore,
BOOM! ashes In the air carrying ember up high,
Dawn sprinkles on the blanket covering the twilight sky.
Morn is the aura of panic.
Old letters in close alignment.
Scattered dolls of alienated action,
parched ideals of a fickle fellow.
Gridlocked drinking down acid.
 ~jadesnow~ · Mon Jan 05, 2009 @ 11:06pm · 0 Comments |
