The night is mantled in silence.
As the veiled-moon
clings to solitude,
his past marred her luster.
Contemplating...
his mental faculties
drown out her inner voice.
she cleaves a path
through the thicket,
her sense of propriety
is downtrodden by desire
the firmness of her grip
is now tapering off.
this growing hours of madness
half-ruled with
passion...
No comments:
Post a Comment