Thursday, March 6, 2008

MELANCHOLY


Like earthworms blindly burrowing,
The demons probe in fertile soil,
Inherent nature driving them
To feast on grains of self-recoil.

Ah child! When the nightmares
Seduce you to awakening,
Loathing, your illusion,
Obsessed, incurved, enveloping.

V,c 2008