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Created on: August 16, 2009
Light as a feather
Stiff as a log,
Darkness swarms in on the unsuspecting form,
The pain this body feels is swiftly retreating
No one's voice is reaching
To this now deaf ear,
All the dreams,
All the laughter,
All the tears,
Gone before memory claims
the name,
Memory,
Now that you can't remember,
Does memory even matter?
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Poetry: Near death
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I live near a road that is well traveled and worn
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Praise to be God for
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by Ashley Grant
Light as a feather
Stiff as a log,
Darkness swarms in on the unsuspecting form,
The pain this body feels is swiftly
What have thee world to offer,
when I already have eyes to see you.?
What seek thee, heart.?
The kiss that makes a still-lung
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