Not a whole lot new to report, so I figured I'd throw up a poem I'm working on. Haven't thought of a title yet...The lights of stars still shine above
In crisp and bitter air
As the dagger plunges in
You wonder if it's fair.
But fair is just an empty term
For something left to lose.
And all is lost in grief for this
It is nothing that I choose.
And if the night ends it here
And we go our separate ways,
Know I pulled the dagger out
Though the scar will always stay.
