Untitled...

Life: A non-linear existence.

Irony: Through death we aspire to keep living.

Painful to touch: Reality

Stare into the masked face of Death's messenger

He who giveth, taketh away

who's to say?

To give

To take

A mistake to think.

The act of knowing what we don't

Do we know what we want?

Does this happen, and why?

The ropes dangle above the bed severed at the knot

No support, she is gone.

Stranded within the hour

The second hand standing erect; alone

Take me home

I know not where to go....

Once again it's hard to know which way to turn,

and for what I should yearn.