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Poetry Attempts and such

	Winter's Sorrow
	Winter's Sorrow


There’s a light on this building and it won’t shut off Like a candle it burns with such admirable determination. Through the window’s frost-kissed glass, I see a child’s face. It is sad. It is…alone. A tiny hand pressed against the icy glass as if calling out to me. I reach back, but the window is far away, two stories above mine, the 15th floor, so I simply smile and begin to walk off of the balcony. But the face is so sad, and the tears are visible now, Staining such a lovely face red with the liquid of sorrow. And I feel tears too, almost coming to me for this child. This face. This hand. These tears. I climb up the slippery house to the window, But the frost is starting to shut the face away. I claw furiously at the frost, but it persists. The face vanishes, lost in the icy waves. The light flickers, and fades, slowly, to darkness. I am…alone. On the cold sheet of ice below my feet, The only thing keeping me from falling to the ground. The darkness, black as pitch, swallowing me. I cry out as the last little bit of light diminishes, And I begin to fall. Drifting suddenly, endlessly, to the bottom. If there’s even a bottom. The snow falls around me, Spiraling Downward Forever. And a sudden burst of light and feeling as I hit the ground. And it ends here, buried in the snow. The slit marks on my wrists are red with fresh blood. That face drifts like the snow, toward me, slowly. Then fades. My little light, beneath my skin, around my heart, fades slowly as I close my eyes. My little light withers and dies as I fade with it. And I die with my little light. We go out Together. Morgana The Heartless · Wed May 23, 2007 @ 01:16am · 0 Comments


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"..From the razor to the rosary, we could lose ourselves and paint these walls in pitchfork red.."
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