'The Price Of Life.'

Born without choice

ironic
the unknown fear
hidden
the depth of life

reality seldom realised

walking the dead.

Each green mile
subconsciously
eaten

youth

day
by
month
by
year.

I cry one billion tears
unknown to my consciousness

as the clock beckons with it's etched face,
each finger glides

wags
never weary

guiding our way to darkness.

I need to take the slow path
as each line appears

never fade,
they crawl across mankind

as the quick path beckons
with demons of excess

the price of life?

Death.

© 2008 Michaela James.

'Myself & I.'

'Myself & I.'

You toss and

turn

crumpled

unlike a blank page,

creases permanent.

Can you hear me?

the taunts that wake you.

Can you see me?

the shadows that lash your bed.

Can you feel me?

the footsteps you imagine

real.

I am hidden within the mind's riddle

darker than night,

reaching each corner,

grasping at your purgatory

licking the flames of

sympathy's hand held empathy-

the child-like figure

peering thro' the frosted window

pleading for

the deep sleep-

until then

I'll circle your being

devour your life,

drown your dreams.

© 2008 Michaela James.