11/6/12

WHEN . . . .





When water turns into blood
When the sun fades into black
When my heart pounds for the last time
When I will see you go.
 
I’m washed to the shore
Breaking into the rocks of loneliness
Aching my empty life without you
Drifting through memories of us
 
I know life would be easier
when you talk more to me . . .
 
 
 
 

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Gorgeous image to go with such powerful words...

About Me

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We yearn for some explosive, extraordinary escape from the inescapable and, none forthcoming, we put our faith in an apocalyptic rupture whereby the inevitable is solved by the unbelievable grasshoppers, plagues, composite monsters, angels, blood in industrial quantities, and, in the end, salvation from sin and evil--meaning anxiety, travail, and pain. By defining human suffering in cosmic terms, as part of a cosmic order that contains an issue, catastrophe is dignified, endowed with meaning, and hence made bearable.