Unfinished----In Progress
What wisdom comes from deafened ears
Blinded eyes and hands bound.
Muted voice and blunted scent
Hope flows with ignorant tears.
In that darkness IT quietly resides;
tendrils choking Hopes' genesis.
Smothering smoldering
the flicker of knowledge hides.
Seeking light but eyeless still;
Something struggles to be seen.
Vapors drift on empty shores
Shuddering, a passive chill.
Through the stagnant endless night,
No fragrance did pierce the mind.
Shrouded, clouded not a whisp
Hinting of impending plight
copyright ~Star Dancer 2009
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