My Home
I am not your hearts desire,
The frames of silent proof...
I walk the halls where darkness breeds,
The pain of bitter truth...
And though my footsteps echo loud,
My essence is unseen...
For in my darkest, coldest hour,
My life was but a dream...
Now the wings shall carry me,
To places that aren't known...
></SCRIPT> It lays beneath the surface,
A cold, dark grave, called home...
© Priestess Of Darkness 10/1/2005