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the deepest oceans are the darkest ones
miracle eyes outshine the sun
forsaken forever, my heart you won
oh, miracle eyes, mend love undone
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oh, rose addicted lips,
cruel and beautiful,
whisper your gentle lies
and ponder;
what do you despise more,
the ache or the release?

she had flaked away her memories
and stepped up
with a ponderous heart,
held by two gentle hands;
and saying goodbye, did she,
as she slipped off her skin,
for the moment blood stains
the kumari's tender soul,
bereaved, will she become,
for a goddess never bleeds.

her feet shall never touch
the tattered, naked ground,
for it engulfs and devours
and burns off the kumari's flesh.
holding her pure spirit, and
  accepting a cruel death sentence,
her quivering soul
cupped but a glimmer of hope,
as the fire would flicker
and lash and whip
as her skin flakes again,
and the kumari vanishes.

but, if she remains unscathed,
blood shall be drawn,
and the gods will tremble and
her body will collapse.
the world will consume her
once again.

a kumari's blood,
drawn, now at death,
trembling and alone,
had she sobbed tears of joy,
for no longer the weight
must she bear in her heart,
of being a kumari;
but a kumari is she,
and the world has not chose her,
but she has chosen to be.

she had withered away,
heart no longer ponderous,
she stepped up.
and her wishes from within
passed on to the fearful others,
held by two gentle hands, and
with a gentle flutter of her eyes,
next to her charcoal stained skin,
had her heart stopped;
for her bejeweled crown had been stained with blood,
and the kumari realized that
she had died long ago.

if the ink kept flowing still,
even when i'm gone,
the parchment would've worn and will
keep bleeding until dawn
a meek and mild fawn,
our hands intertwined, i see
love, but can it be?

and the ink was like a void,
endless, it drew me in
strong, yet slim and coy
it didn't end or begin;
the places it has seen?
everywhere, it seems
from stars to broken dreams
it never lets go of me

if it had stopped again,
it'd surely be a mistake
but i'm lying now, my friend
and these feelings no longer wake
our hearts, why must it ache?
yet, not for love, you see
to be adored and be set free

my lamp was like the sun
the paper, but a moon
they both depend on each other,
or so, they thought, but soon
sadly, tender moon
knew about the lies
the moon was never needed,
not even in the sky

and things like tumbleweeds,
tangled ***** of string,
express my thoughts in me
but don't even begin
to tell what i think within
it's so messy, yet so clean
my thoughts of shattered dreams

and upon a slender flower,
a tender little stem,
we have undying power
to speak feelings within
a pen glazed in glittered gold
easily has told,
by trickling some ink,
and using fragile strokes,
you can say just what you think,
even the untold.

the good things in life seem to stay;
like the color yellow, or a warm summer's day
waking up early, running barefoot in grass
feeling the morning dew brush past

hearing the twinkle of an ice cream truck
if you go, you'll catch it, with luck
eating a popsicle as the sun beats down
riding a bike through a small playground

when dusk comes, once again
we're swimming at night and playing with friends
lighting sparklers that shine brighter than stars
popping cap guns you could hear from afar

running barefoot right down the street
giving the neighborhood dog a treat
taking polaroids like the pictures will stay
but lost them then, by the next summer day

watching as fog rolls slowly ahead
the sun goes down, so time for bed
excitement and thrill, time for a sleepover
the day, for now, will never be over!

karaoke on beds at the crack midnight
crashes of thunder, scary stories, and fright!
still, pretty soon,  we get used to it
or in the summer, it all happens quick

never sleeping, don't want it to end
even though there's the weekdays and weekend
glowing lights hang above the bed
sleepy eyes remind us dumb things said

summer, now, doesn't last forever
even if we must change the weather
we must savor it, you and me
and kiss summer hello thrillfully!