02/02/2010

Blackened Orbs

Flicks of brilliance,
Performed with little thought,
A pristine mind set free.

The dense green-eyed bodies bewildered,
Craving the decay of creativity.

A spear of crimson concocted,
Aimed to wound,
Aimed to kill.

Victorious in afflicting a gray reluctance,
Forever tarnishing,
The thought wavering,
Suffocated and engulfed,
Caught in a vortex,
Withdraw then hidden,

Until it is distinguished.