waxwings Posted April 2, 2010 Share Posted April 2, 2010 (edited) Within life’s hurried, quick, relentless stream, what is, for me, a slow and endless night is but a blink, mere trifle of a dream, that tiny silver pin she took, star-bright like my soul’s agony now made sublime, pinned by her careless hand to quake in fright on that cold, dark and boundless cloth of time. Edited April 2, 2010 by waxwings Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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