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Sep 2011
There's nothing here,
The light comes from the dark.
I wish to linger there,
This will become my past.
A silhouette comes forth,
It's brilliance all around.
And absent kindness came,
Revealed, we are the same.
Hand in hand, backs to heaven's horizon,
It can wait.
Slowly days drifted on,
Time remembered us then,
And all you were was gone.
Pointless even to search,
All you left were words.
I leave you now,
The overture of Earth.
Keith Jenkins
Written by
Keith Jenkins
915
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