| Untitled, first draft
The fall begins a frenzied movement
it seems like everyone around me scrambles
to grab what they can.
I cannot go with them; what I need rushes
toward me as my desires taunt my soul.
Things I cannot have.
I have no direction. The guards of
September expose the cost of my delay.
The leaves have fallen.
Last edited by Himeo : 11-17-2006 at 09:32 PM.
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