Late Night Calls

A crippling glance had been the commencement to the conclusion.

All roads must lead somewhere.

Every waterfall brings disrepair.

Fate has an ironic tone…painting by number.

Elaborating in the future.


with eloquence…bleeding into the past.

Leaving behind a present that fades fast.

In all manner of ability some find a way to get back home.

Limping, crawling, scratching.

Many have been born to die.

Figments of imagination.

Beings…not being.

In the corners of the onlooker’s eye.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.