Is to be one of
Desperation
Over the longing
of something
of sentimental Value
To hold it tightly
till near crushing
blow
Longing even more so
for the
cradled warmth of
a held tight fear
Unleashed through mouth
Words now sought for
Wrought in the mind
of the despaired anger
Fought till the grasp
of a hand
cut deep, bone shown white
With the sharp love
dripping cold, pooled
under heel
pursed tightly the soft
essence of touch
between tongue and teeth
recedes back into the
folds of reality
Desimated is the conscious
of the dreams washed
Fades to black
photo perfection sharp focus
Lost realms in solitude untold
