Infected

365 Days of Creativity

sixty one

Infected

Poisonous are the

Words unsaid

      Diseased

Plagued with haunts

Fairytales in depths

                   unread

Seas of hopes
where naive swim

leave leave leave

Run

The absence of the disease is the only

cure

Stakes raised

Risk Death for Death

Doomed by dreams

The babe is born to

                   die

    Wicks are lit till

                   ash

Nothing gold can stay

                  -but

Sweet are the days

of

Shimmer and Sigh

Ere flame dies

and

Mother cries

Light is made

and

Babe sees day

return return return

Run

The presence of the disease is the only

Burn