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May 2014
the words we softly whispered
in a language of our own
as we silently ruled our kingdom
from our pillow thrones

i'm cradled in your arms
and the room is dimly lit
as my soldiers lay down their arms
and i begin to let you in

novels of dreams and childhood years
tales of sleepless nights
reports of all my irrational fears
which i confessed by dim candlelight

thoughts that my mind had never before heard
tumbled from my mouth- i was choking
on the brutality of all my honest words
and the ideas which you were provoking

like birds in a cage,
my feelings trapped for too long
and the dust on this page
had been there all along

the first time i was hurt
i swore it was my last
but i begin to revert
with my red wine filled glass

as we slowly drift off into our peaceful slumber
both enveloped by the night
i did, in fact, begin to wonder
if i should confess love by dim candlelight
inspired by and loosely based on lamplight by bombay bicycle club
Written by
Sara
14.3k
 
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