This entry was posted on 4/10/2007 8:31 PM and is filed under Writing.
Whisper soft...
my love with a moon to move my secular soul...a moon to still the
screaming banshees,waging battle for control of a gypsy,once free,now
stumbling headlong toward the day where branches will no longer stain
the light between thee and me. A longing,a curse...for memory is a
hunger. And all that I hold dear has been swept away...leaving only a
crumb for my ravenous gypsy soul. One Soul.
