Morning light and all is
sane with saints and demons
lingering in the afterthought.
Blood and sores drive my mind
as morning becomes just
anther day.

Friends and family seem
like strangers as
muscle and pain lingers
with echoing words.

Cities gone and souls
long gone never made
an importance as memories
haunt the very words.

I think of words like love,
and think about how it fades
with burning ambers.

I am no one of importance,
and love and friendships
mean very little to a being
that has long been spent
and used.

Slowly the city awakens
and the thoughts become
a blur.

And the crows screech
and the night is all but gone.
In it all love and memories
die with a dying breeze.

08/07/2009

Posted on 08/07/2009
Copyright © 2025 Christopher Shin