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 .   .   .   .  .   .  .   .  .   .                   "Hair"
 .   .   .   .  .   .  .   .  .   .
  . . .  .   .   . . .  . . .  . . .             by Cure The Chaos


  . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

        A nights long rest and a peaceful bath, I thought I could finally
 sleep at last.  That's not the case, there's too much time to let the
 dangers float my mind.

 What do your reflections have to say,
 any clever things today?
 Words of wisdom, a bit of advice like
 how one can live a fruitful life?

        The strangest vision passed me by, I was laying down with open eyes.
 I could hear only silence, my senses were dead, but I thought I smelled your
 pretty head.

        I was busy not moving working hard on laying, singing songs in my
 head and contemplating.  I turned to my side and you were there, your smile
 seemed bright through a mask of hair.  I knew that was it, my sense of smell
 dragging me back to the depths of hell.  You shared all that I had,
 including my bed, and now I'm reminded where you last put your head.  I
 thought some more songs and the night droned on, I questioned my knowledge
 and prayed for the dawn.

        You were with me tonight, just like the last.  I smiled and you
 touched my side and I gasped.  There was a lack of tears and a smile of
 regret.  You said you knew me forever, now I'll never forget.  With pains of
 passion asleep for a night, I think for now I'll be alright.

        Even if you can't push through the hate, and feel as if you'd like me
 to break, or if I can't dream for a night or two, or comfort someone like I 
 thought I knew; I turn my head into the softness and care, with only my 
 memory keeping me there.

  . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
                                                                             
  .           anada 195             by Cure the Chaos  (c)2000 anada e'zine .
      
  . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .