Tuesday, August 30, 2011
An incomplete poem, an unfinished sketch, solitary sobs, cold forgotten questions that don't seek answers anymore, they are cold and heavy, like those eyes, that have forgotten to sleep, many times. Crushed hopes, caged, tamed dreams, they have closed their wings, forgotten to fly, they just float, somewhere around her head where she can't catch them anymore. Her world is closing down on her, day by day, and in the distance, rings away the temple bell. The world goes about. Living. Laughing. Praying.