I crave the scent of skin
And all its distractions.
The storm brewing within,
And the silent actions.
When Gods test their might,
Bring forth their glory,
Light turns day to night.
One word, one story.
Never will there be
Such craving and lust.
As when I met thee.
My heart is now dust.
The seeds of ice were set
Into the cold ground free.
Where fire met cold and wet.
Where shouts, became a plea.
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 9:24 AM UTC
I crave the scent of skin
And all its distractions.
The storm brewing within,
And the silent actions.
When Gods test their might,
Bring forth their glory,
Light turns day to night.
One word, one story.
Never will there be
Such craving and lust.
As when I met thee.
My heart is now dust.
The seeds of ice were set
Into the cold ground free.
Where fire met cold and wet.
Where shouts, became a plea.
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