Poets

Moonlight. I reach for the beams of hopes & dreams. But the moon's high over my head. I can never reach that far. It's hopeless. My dreams flee and I chase them, yet they flutter like silken moths, out too far. Without hope, I fall through the darkness forever.

Silent cries and dark tears fall, motional years cease seems so long ago bleeding hearts spring forth from the wells of despair, while petals fall from the dying black rose, once vibrant and beautiful to behold.

Fallen stars turn cool, and a dark blue Soft voices calling ring light and echo into the places that you've abandoned you have left what once was thriving the sounds of your footsteps disappear and no one is there.