July 1, 2004

Beneath the Blind Moonlight

A pensive stare in the midst of the blind
Caught in the shuttering truth
And the last ones standing
The only flame that puts me to sleep
Are the photos of the meandering past
So many promises you kept
So many tears you dried
So many lies you uncovered
And the several times we cried
We are the last ones standing
The two of us on the grass
The two of us in the street
Then the third flashes before me
And the fourth even, in front of you
Yet, it is only the two of us
The two of us are true
To make matters better, I pick up the phone
And dial the creasing tones
The design, an old
The angst-filled dialogue
The laughs at nothing
The design, a new
The lats ones standing
And even in the end
When the leaves have fallen
And she has shuddered her fall from grace
I will promise not to lose an eye if you stand by me
For we are, the last ones standing