|
Running through the forest
a rush of color beneath a canopy of darkness
pale-grey eyes searching, always searching
for that fairie tale of dreams
jelous thorns reach out in greeting
piercing once flawless skin
agony mingles with hate and
in weakening she falls
drenched in crimson dreams
the song of a hundered butterflies
that clear, comforting sound
rings out above the clamour
of unforgiving pain
lending silver wings to a lost, forgotten soul
wow, i really like it...
 lynsae4 · Sun Oct 23, 2005 @ 03:42am · 0 Comments |
