Not gentle like one would expect
Before droplets of blood fall
Sweat runs from my brow
Earnestly I lick my salty lips
Anticipation awaits curiously
As daffodils surround me
Bowing down and staring in reluctance
While I lay about in the morning dew
Pondering the silence
It is the calm before the storm
As blood flows from my wound
Upon the ground it falls generously
~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
