20 March 2012

A Spot Of Oil

Crazed images of a question
Like a spot of oil burning in my mind
Torn conflict haggling for more room
And the pages of a diary
All too soon consumed.
Whispers of a dew-struck morning
Veiled like a lie on a silken tongue
Sneaking light on a horizon
Of no-tomorrows, broken silence
Creaky old man wearing tight shoes.
Every moment lived till forgotten
Temporary forevers in folded gold
A false light breaks on the horizon
And a small bird shivers with the cold.

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