Tempus Fugit

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Lapses



Stop to think. Think to stop. 

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There are still times
When my mind goes empty;
Free of thoughts and dreams,
Of fears and failures,
A state of complete blankness
Utter absence of all
And like the first rays
Of the sun at dawn
Thoughts of you
Shine on me
Haunting my mind
Like a plague,
An infestation of sorts,
A slow painful death,
With a cure but not a hope.
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*picture from farm3.static.flickr.

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