The images of your beating heart
Fall trace inside your hazel eyes
Remnants within, breaking apart
Ripped apart, by another's lies
Your torn-up heart beats to a different rhythm
One in complete synchronicity to my own
Your emotions have jumped, going out on a wim
Now, no longer will you be left alone
For my heart beats, in response, adoring your tempo
My soul, in shock, gets lost in your intoxicating eyes
My arms, get trapped, around your voluptuous waist
And my lips, they steal, the most luscious of kisses
To drown in your eyes, would be an end most fitting
For one, like myself, who adores them finely so
To harm them, would be a crime worth a beating
I'll protect them with my life, no matter the show
To press you against me, pulling at your waist
Slender, and feminine, the most perfect of shapes
Never to be apart, stuck together with paste
Together forever, like one vine to two grapes
Before leaning in for that one special moment
When two lips conjoin, and become a whole
If broken apart, I would write a lament
To which, my life would be the eternal toll
Jan 19, 2010
Jan 19, 2010 at 10:00 PM UTC
The images of your beating heart
Fall trace inside your hazel eyes
Remnants within, breaking apart
Ripped apart, by another's lies
Your torn-up heart beats to a different rhythm
One in complete synchronicity to my own
Your emotions have jumped, going out on a wim
Now, no longer will you be left alone
For my heart beats, in response, adoring your tempo
My soul, in shock, gets lost in your intoxicating eyes
My arms, get trapped, around your voluptuous waist
And my lips, they steal, the most luscious of kisses
To drown in your eyes, would be an end most fitting
For one, like myself, who adores them finely so
To harm them, would be a crime worth a beating
I'll protect them with my life, no matter the show
To press you against me, pulling at your waist
Slender, and feminine, the most perfect of shapes
Never to be apart, stuck together with paste
Together forever, like one vine to two grapes
Before leaning in for that one special moment
When two lips conjoin, and become a whole
If broken apart, I would write a lament
To which, my life would be the eternal toll