Monday, January 29, 2007

Everytime he thought of an end,
The madness returned to engulf him,
But end he must; and often he thought --
-- let the echoes of whisper kisses remain,
The frost on the leaves always be moist,
Let the dawn shower her with a rainbow,
and a smile put her to bed each night,
Let her dreams be a journey to heaven,
and when she awakes; let him be gone

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