I caught myself again
Having a fling
loving high living and lusting for more like a whore playing games next door to the room where her mother lies dead.
A dog howling far across the field
A lonely call that shivers in the sky
How strange the way the human spirit yield to melancholy,following that cry which conjures visions of wasted life of those who die with nothing worthwhile done.
twenty six and counting and recollections of old frutile strife
Pauses along a fragile step and then plunges to earth in anguish where it seems that all the sorrow known since Adams fall are crystalized in one long lonely call.
©mylcebon
M