Mar 17, 2008

The End

I am Rose,
The thorns well in prose.
Black tears, thick black...
Speak of crooked laughter, ...tragic humour in your eyes
We don't belong here. I do.
They do. With chains. With some matter and some wise.
I don't belong here. Do you? I do.

The hour comes, the sand flows...
You keep going till it goes.
I am not the one. I am just a one.
They can shout, they can curse...
They can scream by the book of words.
Can't but part this part away from the dust.
I didn't decide to be a part. Did you?

Thoughts that come when you are.
Words that ring like guns in a war.
Pain, Pain, Pain...
Is one gift when you were born.
Who chose? Who knows? Who you are?
Who will you be? When it's all gone...
When will it be gone? The end... Is there one?