scream most silently
a better calling cries
a keen interest fans the wind
to feed on the shadows of want
an endeavor of petted immoral desire
this want that so claws at me
want of change
want of depth
want of maturity
such need of need
a habit now born in a whirlwind
are such askings too bitter to be digested
such longings ache in the very soul
and make mischief from pools of tranquility
I hear no words
only the strains of music
that the bitter silence sings
the net of the muse
escapes not me
but mends itself
a few more lines
to beseech you with
a couldron's pot of
unparalleled gratitude
unbeknownst to your frosted heart
you shall do me 'The Darkest Favor'
but a favor all the same
by granting me open passage
to set myself free
something so painful
yet so very necessary
such sad love shedding
shall teach us both finer paths
on which to tread
life hurts
sometimes
so much...................
(March 6, 2000 3pm)