Post by Chronojack on Oct 2, 2004 18:36:34 GMT -5
Here's a twisted little love poem I came up with when I was angry.
-Love is illness, but not with you. It's perfect, I love you
-Fly away with me and join the stars in the sky
-Death is scary but life is scarier but as long as your next to me I can face my fears
Alone in the far corners of a world of dreams
I listen to the plaintive whisper...
of sweet memories with wings clipped
With the time fluttering a sedate, soothing rythim
Through the cool flesh sliding so namelessly familiar over this landscape of loose translation
SHe kisses me, slowly forces herself through me
My trembling assembles a tacit myth
This is of signifigance.
We move in lasting time
Resting a scence of desperate secrecy
Then... somewhere far below us, the strangers, the rest of them, begin to stir
I need not ask she stay until I forget
And we are laughing--
The day has come to soon
And we are sobbing
This is a strange clutch
So little time to learn so much--
As if no other night could bring such a futile fleeting touch
And because she sighs,
And because she sings
as she becomes my pain--
I must steal the night again...
-Love is illness, but not with you. It's perfect, I love you
-Fly away with me and join the stars in the sky
-Death is scary but life is scarier but as long as your next to me I can face my fears
Isolation Thirst {{page 1}}
Alone in the far corners of a world of dreams
I listen to the plaintive whisper...
of sweet memories with wings clipped
With the time fluttering a sedate, soothing rythim
Through the cool flesh sliding so namelessly familiar over this landscape of loose translation
SHe kisses me, slowly forces herself through me
My trembling assembles a tacit myth
This is of signifigance.
We move in lasting time
Resting a scence of desperate secrecy
Then... somewhere far below us, the strangers, the rest of them, begin to stir
I need not ask she stay until I forget
And we are laughing--
The day has come to soon
And we are sobbing
This is a strange clutch
So little time to learn so much--
Isolation Thirst {{page 2}}
As if no other night could bring such a futile fleeting touch
And because she sighs,
And because she sings
as she becomes my pain--
I must steal the night again...
