Wednesday, 19 January 2011

In Waiting


Light shimmers through a broken window
Shards sparkle on the the floor below
Jagged points of harsh light reflected
A mirror to the day.

My life may be on standby
Awaiting things that may
Its possible it is coming
A better way to see the day

A dark place there will always be
A place to cower and shiver
The light will displace the dark
Its brightness chasing dark eddies away

For now there is ghosting
But not of witching hour kind
My world will be exorcised
When corneal has grafted hard.

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