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  October's Child



The darkness writes a book; one without letters
Shadows turn the pages at midnight
Windows of a church, draped in candlelight
Ideas without plans are bound in fetters
* * * * *
The gods of sleep are fading in and out
My spirit follows behind as a foreigner
Images are twirling somewhere in the corner
I'm alone within these words, without a doubt
* * * * *
Mirrors of the night painting blank faces
Someone with sad eyes; another without a smile
I walk along the road mile after mile
Passing roadside detours in lonely places
* * * * *
Take not these dreams, nor sleeping flowers
You see, the petals have been knitted just for me
Let me fall asleep with whatever is to be
But for now, I'll count the dreams and the hours
* * * * *
January 01, 2010

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