I created this place upon the black sand
To feel the contrast against the blue sky.

Windows nothing but hollow places
Displaying the light as it
Passes by.

I listen to the them
Proclaiming the end because
It never comes.

The walls of burning flesh cooled
By her shadow. Revealing
The ink-stained words of my life.

I waited for the rain because
It always does.

Published by David W. Jones

David is a writer and blogger who enjoys creating literary expressions about everyday life. He is a published poet and currently doing reviews, creative writing, and storytelling. David's interests include narrating point-of-view scenarios, documenting non-fiction, and writing scripts for film and television. View all posts by David W. Jones