othelladub's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the stone on the isle We walked in the street feeling the vitriol trickling in air thick with defeat, the eyes letting go of sight with all present locked in cadence, pulling ourselves into white. We seek shelter under the oak, trampling branches to get to leaves, exhausted in the light we choke. Moving in mud, walking in bare feet sensing cliches are somehow replete, breathing in air a machine complete. If dust is plenty, we use it still. we watch time pass away it grinds insatiably to kill. Not for a purpose one can discern. Only for a record, never stopping, rolling on as dreams decay. 12:04 a.m. - 2002-04-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||