Silenced save for the winter wind that whistle pastthe pane, a text of grim, unblinking fact. The floor,a simple mind would call wood, a canvas of dustaltered, snaring the crippled mind. A blend ofnarcistic behavior, saved for the silence...

In this graveyard of memories, I wander, cloaked in the twilightof November. The breeding stones of my mind held within. Mybones, threadbare of the moth's wings. Now a silhouette falling from the grave. Walking the shadows in an orchard...

heaving heaviness my bosom rises and fallsthe night utters weariness to methe need gathers and I bring the shadows withinrestless spirits who know I understand themcreedence true, lovely ones they aresinking in deeper I behold themit is a sacred...

my thoughts meditate within mefloating to the skytouching heaven I sighbeautiful reprieve, my fate sealedpretty understanding is honest with her approachnever lying, open hearted and true even in sinwhere in darkness bane find myself oftengreat importance is purity of...