looking at my stained mirror..

This blog will be more on stories and poetry made by my own imagination. Some may be based from my own experiences while some may be excerpts from other short stories and literature. Some of the following entries I made were not published according to the date they were written. Looking through a stained mirror, you will see a glimpse of me..

Friday, November 2, 2007

Dead Stars

Summer days were over
Those where our time
The cold season's reaching out
As we fade into nothing
How come I'm so blind to see this coming?
What happened to the stars
That we used to gaze in awe
During those nights
Now ceased to glow
Now I'm out here wishing upon dead stars
While you're out there wishing with somebody else
Cold August nights
I don't want to wake up
When you're not here to wake me
Where's the sense in that?
When silence is deafening but we chose it to be this way..

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