September 23, 2014

Vision of Dusk

One morning born of anger,

autumn frost is melted by heated hearts.
My heart burns for indifferent days,
when the sun set with no worries.
A time where the starry midnight meeting
knew not of dreams this gloomy or dark.

Cut thru this greyscale vision of dusk
And bloom learning with eyes of change.
This pessimist tongue that licks this world
will never lick this dedicated soul.

I remember when I was shown tommorow.
It told of haunts that made spirits scream.
The red light at the end of the tunnel
spoke secrets that made me shiver in its wake.

But then I was shown yesterday.
of the regrets and wasted time.
The chance to see the sun rise
as if it were my last
gives me hope and joy that tomorrow
I shall not let pass.