The Ghosts of my past.

January 7th, 2009-Depth Of Night

Forgotten in the depth of night;

Waiting again for the morning’s light.

The tear of blood runs down my face.

What have I become? A broken disgrace.

A flightless soul; that seems to be.

Something the light will never see.

Regretting each day, for it soon pasts.

Nothing can stay; nothing ever lasts.

Breaking the day, breaking down to cry.

Knowing that everything is going to die.