Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Counter

A year unrequited.
The fascination deep
Alluring. 
Enthralling. 
Destined to seek asylum.
To eagerly reach for oblivion
 
Before the whirling birth of kinship
Where wretched lonely souls glare expectedly for salvation. 
It comes not in the form of sunlight.
It comes not in the day. 

But in the final waning moments of midnight.