Under skies so grey
I walk . Although walking, if it is to be described that way,
Is,
At its best,
Shuffled.
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.
Lost.
Crossroads neath a sky so varied.
Patchwork quilt cross heavens vault.
Yet live.
In hell.
Beneath.
I cannot rise for I have no strength.
Tis sapped.
Gone.
In pain consumed.
I cannot rise above.
I am,
Forever,
Under.
PiecesOfPatrick 