Love and death. The days are flying by so quickly towards my demise I can hardly keep track of them. Love is so elusive and so hard to find while death is always present and not wanted to be found. The tale of two empties revolving around a shallow grave having a hope and a […]
I hear it softly coming my way. Calling my name and beckoning me to take my place in the grave. Night and day the call of endless night whispers into my ears. With a humming in my head and a beating in my ears that will not disappear. So many that I knew have faded
When will tomorrow come, as today has come, and today has gone with my life passing away into the dim memories of no more than yesterday. I dream of things that will never be, hoping that they are the structure of my design for the betterment of those who deserve it. But the confused are
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Poor Planning. The current administration sent out the invitation “Come one, come all” without a structure in place to accommodate the people they invited into the country. This is the epitome of poor planning on their part. I would not invite someone into my household and tell them to sleep under the stars in my
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I am waiting for death to come. One hour, one day, one week, bleeds into another as the appointed time of my demise relentlessly approaches. The apprehension of the unknown casts a shadow upon my longing to get the catastrophe of my life over. The debacle of my birth haunts the domain of the living,
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