Bone dry of love.
Waterfall of hate.
Evil constantly flowing,
Like an unatural spring.
Waves of darkness
Crashing like the ocean.
Always moving in one direction
As a river to hell.
Life, cold as a
Frozen lake.
Warmth of the sun
has never undone,
The things to me
Water can be.
James Stanley
Featherstone
Copyright © 2006