Friday, November 8, 2013


Torn from the windows 
The curtains... 
As seen through the trees and buildings clear 
There use to be churches 
Monuments in concrete 
Eyes of stone
Colours unfocused 

The arrival of a ghost train. 

This passion cannot slip away
With all the light from gray
To be born in this... 

Life now sees ashamed... 

The reality is constant 
The paranoia to numb your weathered soul 
To run through the legacy of a man
Just by his words... 

And when the wind is more than just a feeling 
And the pain is more than just a release 
One heart could possibly feel inside 
There's just one truth in it all that you hide inside  
And it's that you've always remained yourself...
You have always... 

Through and through...

Somewhere in there. 

I know you meant well. 

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