~`_ The Spirit of the Eagle speaks into the soul _'~

I am the sister of calamity, the sole proprietor of despair. The silk trees of my makeshift shading of sanity are burning in the intensity of my inflamed soul. Engulfing me as locusts upon the field, the blackness of my every waking moment. I die...daily. The moment I awake from slumber my eyes are overcast gray once again. The sunshine evades me, never penetrating to the deepest regions of my soul...nay not even grazing the skin. I have become the shade, the shadow of something that is or was and is now gone from itself. The flash of my spirit as it scorches the sky leaves the husk of myself plodding through, hour after hour.

copyright, today...this very moment.