In grim moments,
quivering with fear,
separating the tears
from buried eyes.

How will you break up
your life from the
stanzaic epic?

The painting remains
incomplete. You don't want
to touch the colors.

Like snowflakes
I am creating a design
of your thoughts.

Sirius will not
rise today over the hill.
It was a rainy night.

There were dark
clouds, even at doors.