2extreme
10-03-2006, 01:39 AM
Look through the open winter window,
cool wind flowing fresh through a million punctures,
and roam over the barren land, reminiscing
over old memories.
Regret, forget,
regret again,
for one moment,
then another,
as the sky dims into dark melancholy.
I think about the first days,
the best days,
when I was ever so young,
and fun was all I knew,
and I wonder if I'll ever feel the same
again.
As the night grows darker,
and the land is no longer visible,
I think about how the lost day,
and the night,
are representative of the present time,
where daytime memories fade to black,
and never come back.
I rest,
waiting for the next morning.
cool wind flowing fresh through a million punctures,
and roam over the barren land, reminiscing
over old memories.
Regret, forget,
regret again,
for one moment,
then another,
as the sky dims into dark melancholy.
I think about the first days,
the best days,
when I was ever so young,
and fun was all I knew,
and I wonder if I'll ever feel the same
again.
As the night grows darker,
and the land is no longer visible,
I think about how the lost day,
and the night,
are representative of the present time,
where daytime memories fade to black,
and never come back.
I rest,
waiting for the next morning.