Dementia

Darkness falls but no hands catch her, while angels weep without a cause, flame will die untouched.

Veins pulsing with no blood, and Dementia comes un-beckoned. Shadows dancing to no music,

Dementia beckons you.

She calls through ice that long ago has melted. Feeling pain with her nerveless bones, screaming words not to be spoken holding smoke of long passed flames.

Dementia dies unfinished.

Waking under flames of gold, waking over clouds of ice living life without color so you can still see the dark.

Dementia beckons you.

Darkness falls but no hands catch her, while angels weep without a cause. Flame will die untouched.

Opening wounds and tearing of scabs, better to bleed than to scar.

Embrace Dementia, and let her finally die.





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SweetHeart_707 said...
Feb. 14, 2010 at 11:26 am
I lovelovelove! your lines, the intricacies of them. "Darkness falls but no hands cathe her,/while angels weep without a cause." Beautiful metaphor and wording, fabulous work.
 
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