Musing

Trapped In His Life

Life begins. Spring, the birth of all things. I hear music. An old tattered piano. Off-key. But tunes of old, with added side melodies not typically heard anywhere else in the world. I step across the newly tiled floors in the refurbished kitchen of my old home. Louder. I stand and listen, almost peeping around […]

Tortured Artist

I’m a tortured artist without vitality. Color has lost its hue, it’s only darkness. I’m a fallen angel without a paradise. Eden has lost its innocence and beauty. I exist only through blank pages of an empty void consumed only by meaningless matter. Written: June 20, 2005

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