Ideas, ideas,
Scribbled ink.
Ideas, ideas,
Ideas of you.
Cursive letters
on burnt edged paper
the blood from my rose
staining your name
What's love without life?
or life without love?
But what am I,
without you?
Engrave your name
on my lonely heart,
and pray that i'll see you soon.
Close my eyes,
and listen,
listen to the hushes of wind,
luring me deeper, and deeper,
and deeper....
All the way past,
the presence of sleep.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
Ideas, ideas,
Scribbled ink.
Ideas, ideas,
Ideas of you.
Cursive letters
on burnt edged paper
the blood from my rose
staining your name
What's love without life?
or life without love?
But what am I,
without you?
Engrave your name
on my lonely heart,
and pray that i'll see you soon.
Close my eyes,
and listen,
listen to the hushes of wind,
luring me deeper, and deeper,
and deeper....
All the way past,
the presence of sleep.
