Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

A Blackness

Eyes aglow
Before it's heard,
The scream is slow.
Ignore my word.

Mouth agape
And eyes not closed.
No sound escapes,
I do not boast.

Hands do quiver
To hold my heart.
Always, I shiver,
We cannot part.

Hearing sounds,
Feel the cold.
World renowned,
But very old.

Moving on,
But barely moving,
To sing my song
To stop from losing.

I hold your heart
In my cold hands.
I will not start
To make demands.

I'm writhing here
So cold, so alone.
The end's not near,
I have not grown.

April 12, 2005

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A Blackness

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