I O-Pet

I O - Pet I once wrote some poems of stillness and silence, standing by rivers of reflected light: my thoughts were on being loved and yet unloved, too - I surrendered to the warmth of the night. And now I feel like dying, and if the water were still here, it would hold me close. I once wrote a poem while walking on gravestones, as cobbles, rain and tear lashed down my face.... I then felt my whole world was fading as memories jostled and fell into place. And now I feel like dying, and the pain of old fires still burns. I never wrote poems when I bit my knuckles and Death started slipping into my mouth... but that was really a long time ago, and I'm not writing poems now. And though I don't feel quite like dying, there is something deep inside me softly crying. And though I don't feel quite like dying there is something deep inside me softly.... +------------------------------------------------+---------------------------