Look into the whitest of my eyes
Sadness tells me to respect this life
Impression of beauty cunning
The effect a gaze through windows haze stunning
Play the painter's image not on a sullen face running
A painful memory one I cannot erase and flung
What I see - I know now hanging still
My body wanting the death defying thrill
Wrinkling to energy ghastly a thrill in my heart fills
Time goes on and on to an end, then back to the start
The most acquainted love foreboding
The lochness of spells love left growing
The form respectively a drawing in my hands – an art
Smooth is the breeze that blows through my deserted parts
copyrighted 2009
