Tufts of hair,
A swirling.
Eyes that glisten,
Mouth an orb,
Open to the wind.
Ears, with penchant,
Sounds a flowing,
Sighing, in the night,
Echoes from the
Empty corridors
And vacant rooms,
Until the morning light.

This island of discontent,
surrounded by a sea of loneliness,
was created, in my mind.
I am the victim,
creating my own sorrow,
ignoring those who offer
help and prayers.

Golden skin rippling
like the waters of the Nile.
Snowy, white teeth, reflecting
threads of light from your smile.
Milk chocolate eyes, blinding,
those who dare to pause.
Lilting laughter, falling
gently about my ears
for no reason. Just because

When you leave this place
at the end of your day,
will you stroll slowly
or run quickly to say,
"Goodbye to all,
that I know well;
I'm on a pathway,
going straight to Hell."