She sat in the back with a book,
never thinking of the heart she took.
As the music passed her by
the man that sang was dying.
Lets see her check the time.
Lets see her drink her wine.
"Okay on to page five!"
She cripples him all night.
The brightest of jewels couldn't buy her,
striding, careless while the earths on fire
and as the mountains flew away
he sang, she read, yet nothing was said.
To make her story last
he tried a pen and paper
and wrote from back to front,
then finally he met her.
the book was still unfinished
but another story started.
He sang a tale of romance,
she read a tragedy.
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 5:13 AM UTC
She sat in the back with a book,
never thinking of the heart she took.
As the music passed her by
the man that sang was dying.
Lets see her check the time.
Lets see her drink her wine.
"Okay on to page five!"
She cripples him all night.
The brightest of jewels couldn't buy her,
striding, careless while the earths on fire
and as the mountains flew away
he sang, she read, yet nothing was said.
To make her story last
he tried a pen and paper
and wrote from back to front,
then finally he met her.
the book was still unfinished
but another story started.
He sang a tale of romance,
she read a tragedy.
