Its a long, long walk
where yesterday's images trail the long winding roads of nowhere
Seem ajar to what ever mystery life once held and echoed
the silent slumber of faded promises and disillusioned ideals
Soak together in the oblivion of the abyss, and cries.
There's a spot, unpolluted by the lies and wrongs
Far away from that changing that consumed and diluted us,
Where still I behold your perfection ever anew, like a dream
That even in the wakened state I feel close to the bone.
Time doesn't change things, nor have we,
I still see the sparkle in your eyes
That silent want to be held again
kissed and loved so tender
Like in the day's before the pain.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 1:58 PM UTC
Its a long, long walk
where yesterday's images trail the long winding roads of nowhere
Seem ajar to what ever mystery life once held and echoed
the silent slumber of faded promises and disillusioned ideals
Soak together in the oblivion of the abyss, and cries.
There's a spot, unpolluted by the lies and wrongs
Far away from that changing that consumed and diluted us,
Where still I behold your perfection ever anew, like a dream
That even in the wakened state I feel close to the bone.
Time doesn't change things, nor have we,
I still see the sparkle in your eyes
That silent want to be held again
kissed and loved so tender
Like in the day's before the pain.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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