Black Dahlia

Its color consumes the last rays of a distant memory. Tranquility… No, something is looming from behind. It is calling me as gravity pulls my aching feet. Drowning in the dark abyss called dream, I breathe in a phantom reality. I woke up to find the night-sky dark…and lonely. But there is something about the whisper of the wind and the faint moonlight against the curtains. And so I wonder… Does everything else still matters when life is over? What about the treasure of memories that have been stored in the most hidden part of our consciousness? Maybe silver tears are not enough… not even love. And even though I cast my shadow against the flickering candle light, I know you could still see the path that only you could travel. So continue walking because I won’t vanish…not like a smoke that makes the sky raven-black. But when it rains, I want you to flood me with your melody. With that, nothing else matters, except for that ethereal scent that induces somnolence.