Dread

by Timothy   Aug 4, 2004


I roam,
I roam, always alone;
Into the incomprehensible,
Darkness i am shown.

Love is a dying rose,
Plucked in infancy;
Left to wilt in the sun,
Without a shred of dignity.

Fallen from grace,
Orion's face;
It is her distaste,
When I leave this world without a trace.

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