A black cloak,
Which swishes the ground.
Dark sunnies,
Block out the moon.
A figure as vivid as a dying shadow,
In the morning light.

Fragile seams,
Broken soul,
Unanswered questions,
A wish to know.
Afraid of lies,
And what they hold,
Afraid of secrets and what could be told.

A lone stranger,
Of pain and never to be cried tears.
A mind to corrupted,
Too hold no fears.
Too many days have passed their weary eyes,
A wish of death,
A wish to die.

By Siobhan
Date: 18/July/2004