like the visigoth horde and the
sacking of rome.....
darkness descends consuming the soul
hungrily gnawing at the love and smiles
then even the fear, leaving nothing left
not even a moan
the feelings are gone...
the blue and the black...
the reds and the greens...
till all that is left is a pale grey sheen
living now like Shelly's creation
the movments are stiff the movments are rote
nothing compares when devoid of hope
But the light it can shine at the
end of the tunnell
it starts with the desire
to end the rut
to wake up again with a question of
what?
what can i say
a kind word here a good deed there
to make a friend smile
and writing some music to play
it slowly comes back the colors
of life
then the "cursus" it changes
from grey upon grey
with Sulla's mistress Fortune
I begin the day



* cursus
to the romans this was a term with many different meanings however the most basic one is that of a journey.