The frustration
Do these feelings only flow through ink?
Oh what a bursting soul
that devours its own love
inside such a collapsing frame
That desire for touch, the affection that transcends
the droning life of our spinning globe
So insatiable; so confused
Those lips were always a different being than the others
Your path to interject into my timidly drifting course
It burned the maps ever drawn up
The only route from here on was ultimately to the conjured fantasy
of a glorious victory for your love
How idiotic; why is it you?
I, such a wandering pawn in our time's game
to see a magical land in your eyes
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
The frustration
Do these feelings only flow through ink?
Oh what a bursting soul
that devours its own love
inside such a collapsing frame
That desire for touch, the affection that transcends
the droning life of our spinning globe
So insatiable; so confused
Those lips were always a different being than the others
Your path to interject into my timidly drifting course
It burned the maps ever drawn up
The only route from here on was ultimately to the conjured fantasy
of a glorious victory for your love
How idiotic; why is it you?
I, such a wandering pawn in our time's game
to see a magical land in your eyes
