Tuesday, October 19, 2010


Nothing comes out of nothing.
Only fake dreams and wax that melts.
Clouds of conjured mirth
Evaporates and leave behind
A dry sigh.
I reach out all around me
With arms spread like wings
For vibes that send through
The hot skin,
The cheer of a mermaid’s song.
And nothing do I feel
But emptiness in the stale air,
It was but a dream wasted.
A broken dry branch
Mistook for an olive laurel.
Bubbles float in festive air
Yet bursts so helplessly
As we reach out for a touch
With simple, simple joy.
I stand alone in a dark room
As blackness haunts the night
Dry wind whirls within
And blows out my candle light.

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