Tuesday, February 13, 2007


The night slowly whithers like a candle
until your wading through darkness thick as oceans (frail as cobwebs)
the shadow lust can't last as light sprinkles from above
in a heavenly rain that lets the desperate thinkers solve the nights puzzle;
beauty; it's really just beauty.
the darkness can be so gorgeous that you swim through it's rich nothingness,
an enternity wide ebony grand piano that plays and plays and plays
and while they're dancing with the stars which just twinkle and the moon which sings;
if you realize listen you can hear; it echos the past and croons the future,
it knows you better than you may know yourself because it just sits and watches.
and floating in its lunar halos is a present wrapped for those who find the time for it,
you can last any day, no matter how rough,
because when the candle whithers once again,
the dark glorious smoke of the night rises
and all can be forgotten.

by Ryan Uellendahl

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