~Rough~
A dying fire
Embers gold
A story once was
Left untold
A heart that drips
With fear inept
Yet there are tears
Which are unwept
A growing spindle
Of silver thread
Sewn into
A sheet of dread
A lasting panic
I�ve yet to learn
The meaning of
Its stomach churn
I close my eyes
And feel the confusion
And wish to stop
This brain contusion