Friday, June 1, 2012

A Sea of Dust

Broken stones don't feel the scar; but alone
And scared, running from your bizarre show I
Found myself broken, and the pain was hell.
Stone's grow still, and are still until touched
By forces outside of their own control;
Yet I remain in motion, and my soul
Still flees from what it can't face. Cracks, crannies,
A million fissures within this dusty
Piece of earth: forged from the deep recesses
Of a jungle; their are stones thrown and caught,
Crashing through the midst of so much dust, that
Gleams from the sun, but emits not self warmth.
So my heart emits a chill from the pain;
The sorrow felt when I utter your name.

                A Sea of Dust, (c) Luke Bennette, June 2012

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