You are not my children,
tender as you are.
You are not my lover,
though you cause my heart to yearn.
You are not my sun,
or my moon,
or my star.

I set you on this rock;
you will not make me burn.

You are simply sticks,
arranged upon the pyre.
You are clever tricks,
though you flaunt my clear desire.
You are not the match,
or the wick,
or the fire.

I set you on this rock;
To see what might transpire.

You will never be a pheasant's egg to be coddled.
You are only this: a calf led to the slaughter.

i am the center of my own disaster;
the victim of my own demise
although i fell in love with the thought of happily ever after
i grew to love the darkened skies

reach out to me
love, open your eyes

i live and breathe for your existence;
are you here for mine?

dancing to silence beneath the glow of the moon
you twirl me in a spin to fast; just a step too soon
i catch a glimpse of my fallen angel,
for he's been watching too

i took the hand of chance and laid beneath the stars
in a moment of passion that had to happen right there; right where we are

an unforgettable unimaginable pair to par

imperfections speak ridicules
to the sanity we seek afar
an addiction to the feeling of being wanted;
yes i do concur
and i solely promise to want you forever
right here in the dark