She sits there by him day and night
She sits there always in his sight
She watches him asleep in bed
She watches till her eyes are red
Counting down to the final goodnight.

I see you standing there, cigarette in hand;

You’re smiling.

Why does it take the click of a lighter to share a laugh with a friend?

I try to take vicarious pleasure as you take a puff;

I do not understand.

Where is the joy in knowing you are turning your life into ash?

Rings of white escape your mouth;

You cough.

Can you really not live without killing yourself a little every day?

You cannot live without your cigarette;

Look beyond the smoke.

What about us, the people who can’t live without you?

I take the cigarette and stub it;

You, are looking at me.

I dare you not to take another one.

I dare you to be happy without those three inches of rolled up tobacco.

I dare you to think of those who think about you.

I dare you not to burn away your life, cigarette by cigarette, puff by puff.

I dare you to stop smoking.

I dare you, to live.

Palindrome

Escape.
She burst forth and away from the shackles that dared chain her.
Panic.
Hair lashing against her face, wild as an untamed, unkept garden.
Fever.
Her eyes, drops of smouldering amber, melting into madness.
Desperation.
Clinging to every passing soul; begging, grovelling, crying; unseen, unheard
Crisis.
Help!
Desperation.
Child pressed against her bosom, as if to somehow take his agony unto her own.
Fever.
Raging through her babe's limbs as does fire in the heart of Ate.
Panic.
The gleaming peace of silver clutched in her fist, driven into the tiny, flickering heart.
Escape.
Death; relief; release.

The music of Richard Halley is out of key with our times. It has a tone of ecstasy. Who cares for ecstasy nowadays?
-Critic

[Atlas Shrugged]

My eternity

Day after day may come and go;
season after season may pass.
The memory may fade, as I grow old,
of that sweet summer's day in your arms.

The moon may climb and fall again;
flowers may blossom, then die.
Distance may take away a friend
who was once the apple of my eye.

Buildings may crumble, that once stood tall;
cities and peoples may cease to be.
This land, this earth, this world may fall
and succumb to the Mayan prophesy.

But even to the end as the song dies out,
one thing, for sure, will stay with me;
always in reach when I call around:
my north star, my soul, my eternity.

You.