(March 8,1988 / Evanston, Illinos)

Tombstone

Falling into this hole,
When I can’t feel the pain.
The mark left on your soul,
Once life has been slain.

Never aware of such events,
That cause so much devastation.
The horror life represents,
Into scales of escalation.

Shot in the heart,
Dying falling to the ground.
Process of death shall start,
The soul being unbound.

Needing to realize the desire,
Beneath the layers of stone.
While what I may admire,
May mutate inside each bone.

Move to the world of vitality,
Where there lies no core.
Left with the mark of mortality,
As you’re left to explore.

by Dawson Walter Smith

Comments (1)

Shows growth, and had inner hope. Could not relate all that much..., yet the tone seemed to have a mind of its own TTFN, Dot