There is a fantastic and deep longing
buried within the Chambers of my murky heart.
A warm,passionate desire bound in the
dark,dreary recesses of my petulant soul.
Within the crazed walls of the fortress
of my mind lies a grave yard of fanatical
reasoning for why things are as they are.
But when the moon rises fat and bright
over the land the horror of it all comes
into full light.
Donavon Scott Vinson