Fragments From Solitary Souls

In the quiet still darkness of the night they would come almost always voices in the silence of sleep. Working their way into my unconsciousness etching forwards into my soul.Planting seeds to be sowed at sunrise. Flowers to unfold the secrets of time.

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To question words...

To question, the words I put on paper as if I need approval...for shame...these words are mine, I write them as I speak them, they are of my heart and soul, meaningful and true, there is no answer or

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upon crossing the threshold explosions erupt and few survive. I can feel his hand as once again my head is held under the water taking my last breath thru energy my hand in his we touch