jackson-rothwell
English
I'm a person, like you I guess. I'm just trying to spend my life doing what I love to do. Whether that will be easy or not I don't know, but what I do know is I'd rather die poor, drunk, and alone knowing I tried, then live my life with a family wondering what if. Maybe it means something, or maybe it doesn't, the point is its me, and I'm happy with that fact.
I hear my midnight mistress
Screaming in the night.
It shakes the leave, the grass
The trees.
It echos off the stars it seems.
They twinkle in a shutter
Shed a tear for a broken heart
A whaling heard along the wind,
There goes my midnight mistress
Stinging at my eyes
The tears come.
I am not supposed to walk this road.
Or hear the crying night.
I do not want to think these thoughts,
The tears roll down my cheeks.
"I am sorry my love"
"My cradle of life. You do not sting my eyes so."
"You do not weak my knees"
It is only me, on this walk.
The trees shaking int he night.
The witching hour brings celebration
The dancing of the trees
The transcendental chanting,
Of my mind, and yours.
And the screaming of my midnight mistress, carried across the wind.
Apr 25, 2010
Apr 25, 2010 at 8:51 PM UTC