Wednesday, December 26, 2007
`snowIt's snowing now.
She's walking down the empty street,
the snowflakes mutter to themselves,
a queer, white silence.
It's time to start wondering.
Hush, now.
She holds a Christmas card,
to where love doesn't reach.
Look,
a hummingbird.
Cuddling for warmth,
falling prey to nocturnal snow.
She pulls on heartstrings,
snow-melting tears.
A song from the distant,
he quietly whispers.
A little, dark alley;
rapturous rhapsodies.
Glimpse into its twinkling veil,
and guess what she'll see.
Look,
a butterfly.
Stopping to rest,
its wings torn and tattered.
A wondrous magic,
this melodious strumming.
A glowing light from within the dark,
a stranger from her distant past.
Let's make a run for it,
this romantic death.
Let's make a death pact,
this beautiful melancholy.
Look,
a hummingbird,
dancing amidst the falling snow.
Look,
a butterfly,
its wings against the freezing cold.
Beneath this tombstone,
lies a forgotten girl.
She'd pined for him so,
buried under the mounting snow.
It's time to fall asleep.
Hush, now.
She holds a Christmas card,
to where love doesn't reach.
`snow
I'd love to sleep in the snow, too.
12:45 AM; `dead.Y