Thursday, January 22, 2009

Frantic Nights

The years
The nights
The fires
The lights

Passing on
To blood-shot eyes

How feverishly you find yourself
Searching for a single rope
On which to climb to free yourself
Or on which to hold for a hope

But you drown
In your wild search

The tears
The fights
The liars
The sights

- Daniel Z. Garrett -

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