i believe in a gentle kind of love
all soft and soothing and
just right
when i am so terribly, irritatingly fragile
fingers running down my back while we lie
rib to rib, heart to heart
listening to the beat, and to the breath
and perhaps it is that, in this world of rough and tumble
of screaming and aching, to believe in a love kind and sweet is
a naivety but i find that
because of all this roaring outside our window, i much prefer
to think of that love sweet and kind
and us, tangled around each other, i think, yes

i find that i believe in a gentle sort of love

Bell peal
Through fog

Wake up
Seek the mountain

These halls seem somewhat hollow
A certain sense of sorrow
Now graces ancient stone.
Replacing familiar faces
With defaced family paintings
And cold ancestral bones.
Thrones thrown upon a pyre.
Fate becomes the folly
Tomorrow the unknown,
The brows of time are furrowed
Past spent, lost, or borrowed
Flowers forever bloom alone.
Rats, the last lords of ruin
Rule cruel shadows from the walls.
Twilight sighs at daylight's rise
All seems dark till darkness falls.