Burns
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Dec 25, 2014, 4:05 PM

Cold Epiphany 

  Poetry » Other
358 0 0

Clues are leading
To a chilling feeling
Words are crumbs
Of light on the ceiling

 

How much should you
Give
Take
Leave
Ache

 

How do you
Connect the dots
Each on different plane
Fired shots
In the dark, in vain

A victim of your own
Abstraction
Seduced by your own
Seduction

 

Barely afloat
No coast in sight
No sign of boat
Just the empty night

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