Blades of grass sway
and dance against the
silver light of the moon.

All the dreams of
bards turn to broken
shades of you and me.
Suddenly with frustrated
sighs the stories
we love break into
broken lies.

Actors few and old
glitter by with
rainbow wings.
Slowly dragging sadness
into fame.

All the lyrics of a song
turn into tragic stories
more famous then history
should make it.

Trivial and with morose
I dive head first
in decisions of regret.

04/18/2008

Posted on 04/18/2008
Copyright © 2025 Christopher Shin