I have gone through my life
like the packed pages of a book...
Pawns without a square to rest
nor does the King or Queen...
Like a scar covering perfect skin
the shadows of dusk cover me...
Last night I calmly knelt to pray,
to God for more insight...
Growing old and still searching
Saying prayers...
I had experienced the cold.
The dark that never goes away...
She is painting this bottle
with a tint of green...
Wandering fae dances with the leaves
in her hair and moonstone reflecting...
A prophet speaks the truth alone,
His words can cut you to the bone...
She is freezing in this weather.
But why...
So I'm told...
Its the good that die young...
Precision measures -
Water drains anticlockwise...