loojeen

An old soul a dark traveler breathes in last season catching the night-scent of lonely laughter-- something sweet; something simple He doesn't notice the collision apocalyptic the perfect crime the death of innocents he plays the game knowing the black veil hides how it really feels to see what's been done He moves on-- following the dark; always, it seems a shimmer in the shadows a killing constellation of lies like voices in the wind; laughing simply and sweetly © John Hardesty 2010