Monday, 12 March 2007


this was written over three years ago...long time i know. sifting through diary pages brought me to it....

I've been screaming all night,
the sounds that they don't get.
Not their fault,they're far,far away,
they've walked into the blazing sunset.

I tried to tell them my fears,
my face tainted with tears.
All that I ever held dear,
is no more near.

I've been talking to the shadows,
the moonbeams caressing the bed,
of the carved etched rock,
a halo around my head.

Its morning already,
I've been awake all night.
This lost
hollow deserted...right.

Look here he comes now
to me, oh at last.
He put the lilies beside my head,
don't leave,not so fast.

The scent of white lilies
rhythmic mourning...
They still cant hear me scream
and silent while I yell.
I talk and listen
in my grave...
the carved etched rock
around my head...
the ground
now my tomb.....
now my bed.

Wednesday, 7 March 2007


falling through space,
edges turned
beauty spurned.

Falling again,
flashes of red
pure blissful dread.

rolling into a whirling mass
of red.
almost dry,
the petals of a rose flower

A red rose flower
that in their struggle
for survival were


Somebeing ,
has siphoned out
a soul,my soul.
Leaving me
numb, vacuumed .

has wrenched out
a tear.
And painted
a lonely scar.