Sewn together, by strands of golden love,
peices of the heart I once knew come together...

In morning dew, this dove does fly,
taking drops of the rain from the sky...

Through clouds of dust,
with stinging eyes...

Lonely tears of devestation,
only comfort those of imagination...

Trace for fingerprints,
of a memory long forgotten...

I fall from grace,
unholy night...

Fog bleeds from the moon like ghost like tendrils,
Grasping at what they can't reach...

Your words plow through my soul,
like raindrops pounding the windows...

Sorrow seems to follow you,
like a pack of widowed wolves...

Canopy covered, protected, rain pours on,
but provides life to exotic petals...

A prisoner of myself, mind tormented by verse,
no sleep for this lively soul...

New Hampshire Rain
White purness, is dismissed by a rain...