Friday, September 03, 2004
I usually don't write rhyming poetry. I don't know what happened. Hmm...

The leaves fall tonight
and the breeze carries them to the sky.
Into the wind, into the rain,
the tears that the heavens cry.
For a moment there they float
but the earth eases them down
into the place where their mother grows,
into the dark, dew-kissed ground.
And there they sleep, slumber deep
beside fallen dreams and shadowed hopes.
And the heavens sigh, the winds then die
and the earth lets the darkness roam.

26 Aug 2004
dezphaire strapped in @ 7:12 PM  


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Location: Philippines

Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.

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the closet
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poetry & lit
reklamadorang ako
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soundtrack of the moment
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis. But it's just the price to pay, Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside -- "Mr. Brightside" The Killers
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