drift
down to my soul
and kiss my heart to dying

this flame
is not so kind as that

time shifts
so suddenly
foward, then
back again

my heart aches
from sickness
more than from your love

and peace and time
are just words to the dying -
the reaper has no thought of what he sows

but as he comes
closer and closer today
a smile shall cross my lips
as your flower drifts away
fever 104
(c) 2001 Krissi M.
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1