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Shadowed by the day,
Let to roam the land by night,
Sadness follows in its quake.
Silent as the onset of fog,
And yet as unclear as the future.
Help will never come,
Its eyes will never see light,
For it will never have love.
Tears are its drink,
And depression its meal.
No one can feel its warmth,
For it was stolen,
Along with its love.
It is sad,
but true.
Those blue eyes,
Those eyes of ice,
Belong to us.
Those who know all to well,
The icy hell of lonliness.
 KaugrasFeather · Thu Apr 19, 2007 @ 04:57pm · 0 Comments |
