Under skies so grey

I walk . Although walking, if it is to be described that way,


At its best,


Slow, wind drops, rain

Just a few

Drops. Drip. Drip.

Upturned face to catch them

Between the grey lies blue

Then sun

That burst,

Warmth, soft, gentle

A hit

Can I dance between you ?

Skip merrily between the light

And the dark

Are you ?

Reflective of mood ?

Do I sway, in time betwixt ?

I pause.

I know not who I am.

For I am.


Crossroads neath a sky so varied.

Patchwork quilt cross heavens vault.

Yet live.

In hell.


I cannot rise for I have no strength.

Tis sapped.


In pain consumed.

I cannot rise above.

I am,



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