Wednesday, May 12, 2004
$BlogItemTitle$>
Life's un-watered.
The tree corrodes into deformity,
darkness lurking in between.
Waters aquiver,
hands reaching out to...
Halt.
Admonitory flickers.
Childish hands writing furiously;
the mute wall screams,
agony etched deep.
Answers questioned,
minds crudely thrown into twisted mouths of abyss.
And yes,
Mess is disheveled once again.
niaoren 5/12/2004 12:31:00 PM