STIGMATA - Political Musings of Unrequited Love by Ruxandra Duca - HTML preview
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Walk into the Light
I flinch as I stand on this edge.
I flinch for the wind hisses thoughts,
'Never return!
Ever return!
Return!
Turn!'
I turn and I fall into mud.
There is dirt on this cloud that I linger upon,
and oblivion whispers a curse,
there's a corridor hanging, warped by my soul,
but I can't seem to find it.
This blasphemous heart, nailed to despair
is looking for coffins of dust...
what I leave when I live, what I bring when I burst into blood, is a handful of rust.