Imaginary images grown old.
The site of spirit glowing bright and bold.
Flames licking at the window panes.
Chaos comes. It's all insane.
I pour a glass of wine to bring relief.
The empathy they claim is just a thief.
Moltenly, I cry myself to sleep...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .