Tears fall like razorblades carving the skin with pain.
Showers of cold wet spades falling slowly in vain.
Cries of love dulling bites that sharp hatred will bring.
The dark of winter nights not yet lightened by spring.
But stings of blade-like tears can't pierce the heart's black veil.
We all must face our fears and walk misery's trail.
To conquer fear of death we must play the game of life.
So must we search to see the hidden joy in strife.
Thursday, January 14, 2010