She is not love, she is not war
but flames impassioned in the lore
of the world in mirth and thistle crown-
bona fide dour endeavour whittled down.
She is not love, she is not war;
a familiar face in dreams of yore
in the world where nightmares rage,
the mellow touch of soothing sage.
She is not love, she is not war;
soft heart listless in the core
bleeding crimson, etched in agony
of silent pulse in numbing ecstasy.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
She is not love, she is not war
but flames impassioned in the lore
of the world in mirth and thistle crown-
bona fide dour endeavour whittled down.
She is not love, she is not war;
a familiar face in dreams of yore
in the world where nightmares rage,
the mellow touch of soothing sage.
She is not love, she is not war;
soft heart listless in the core
bleeding crimson, etched in agony
of silent pulse in numbing ecstasy.
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