Tuesday, December 27, 2005

poetry

Sometimes it comes together
like formulas and puzzles,
sorted out against dark
chaos and randomness,

and sometimes it falls apart
leaving empty spaces at night
pondering unanswerable moments
to be left till ends of time...

And in those days
one must decide
how weary souls choose to climb
the steepening path of their design.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ugh* (*deep guttural appreciation sound). Nice mate. Very nice.