she lived a normal life, but was only alive
in between his dormant thoughts
and a fading dream
that dream that dressed like a fantasy
those thoughts disguised as an obsession
There are those sudden times
like today, like this very moment
that I loose track of who I am
and what I've been through
and for that split second
I just want to shout '**** it!'
and throw it all away
but then I look in the mirror
who I am, what I've been through
then, all the faces of the *******
I have to prove wrong flash before me
and I remember and remember
that one day they'll be the ones saying
"that ******* proved me wrong!"
because there was a moment
when I lost track
but then I remembered...
there will never be a man
man enough to match
for you are a goddess
and may take riverfulls
of whatever sin you wish
the perfection you seek
in only in the mirror, sweetheart
and nowhere else
however, if given half the chance
I'll keep you high on a pedestal of worship
and remind you of this perfection
moments in love
with your silent face
drifting away into the haze of dusk
and the rising tide floats
my mind aloft, weightless
to the infinity of nothing
I have all the time in the world
to meet you stranger,
and to make you mine
a thousand faces shall pass
in the winds of time
but one day, Love
we will wine and dine
with their guns and their tanks
they marched through like a bad nightmare
the type of hell you can't wake from
destroyed all that you ever loved
killed it, beheaded it, left it bleeding
at night you still wake to their burning faces
your clothes reek of ******
and those eyes haunt you
the smell of their sizzling flesh in your nostrils
soaking your taste buds
the shrapnel penetrates
to the core of your soul
because you'll never forget
the crying faces of the children
the innocent kids whose only crime
was to listen to the 'grown ups'
the intelligent adults who play monopoly
with their bombs and their guns
It's still alive in your head! in their heads!
over a piece of land we pay with their innocent youth
because they witness our deadly game
and lose any concept of childhood
growing up quickly to men and women
we take their lives, memories, loved ones and parents
we won the war? no!
a Victor in a war is the one who has lost less
but never a winner!
there is nothing to be proud of
if your picture could talk
what would it say?
would your splendor and elegance
be shared in the heavens with your sweet voice?
a mermaid's song that rendered
all within shout powerless to you?
would 'gorgeous!' echo amongst angels
like trumpets in prelude to a queen?
maybe hear your picture whisper softly in my ear
to deafen me with the truth?
'I belong not to you but to another
yet my love is always your dominion'
your picture wouldn't say a word
for perfection is self-evident and never in need to justify
beyond and above mortal words
your perfection just is
as sure as the sun rises every morning
I know when I have found it