STIGMATA - Political Musings of Unrequited Love by Ruxandra Duca - HTML preview

Walk into the Light

I flinch as I stand on this edge.

I flinch for the wind hisses thoughts,

'Never return!

Ever return!

Return!

Turn!'

I turn and I fall into mud.

There is dirt on this cloud that I linger upon,

and oblivion whispers a curse,

there's a corridor hanging, warped by my soul,

but I can't seem to find it.

This blasphemous heart, nailed to despair

is looking for coffins of dust...

what I leave when I live, what I bring when I burst into blood, is a handful of rust.