Take this hand.
May I guide you within the depths?
So traggic to view her this way.
White in a doll of china's mask of death.
Tormented did a candles light cast doubt's with no hand to grasp
a wrist bled slow.
Tea leaves and incense.
Masked air of rosemary the record scratched and was inturn
left unherd.
Thoose eye's captured want yet
never could clasp a heart or lockets match.
Was it as planned?
A slow regression into a blackend fade.
A cloth over lamp.
It dimmed the light but never the flawed beauthy.
that I knew well.
Sleep in a life none would yern to awake.
My heart did linger in a thought as overcast skies blue eye's
did paint my thought's gray.
Cold was perfection a raindrop viewed from inside.
I kissed you last as first I bid farewell.
That night you took from many yet only thought as one.
A tormented love a single rose.
So tender you were stained of many.
But a portraiht to me.
Your words a soon to be epitapth of my pain cast memory.
Thank you for never seeing me as so many befor.
Many works of art are cast in pain.
Dove's of life often cry a tear when met to dirt.
I held you close once apon a empty floor only not tight enough.
Music that cast a passion lights so dim often gliow with soul.
I see you now and think of that time.
Tender in a stone that is a chamber I call my heart.
I wish I could have brushed away the pain.
As I did a hair that night from your face.
Thoose eyes a void of passion life often does ****
If you had taken that hand would we have found ourselves?
Or simpley lost it togather in a vague chance at bliss?
I remember you still.
A painting of a woman known to many but who's heart
was shared only with me.
That moment apon the bar's empty floor forever fill's my
thought's
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 7:17 PM UTC
Take this hand.
May I guide you within the depths?
So traggic to view her this way.
White in a doll of china's mask of death.
Tormented did a candles light cast doubt's with no hand to grasp
a wrist bled slow.
Tea leaves and incense.
Masked air of rosemary the record scratched and was inturn
left unherd.
Thoose eye's captured want yet
never could clasp a heart or lockets match.
Was it as planned?
A slow regression into a blackend fade.
A cloth over lamp.
It dimmed the light but never the flawed beauthy.
that I knew well.
Sleep in a life none would yern to awake.
My heart did linger in a thought as overcast skies blue eye's
did paint my thought's gray.
Cold was perfection a raindrop viewed from inside.
I kissed you last as first I bid farewell.
That night you took from many yet only thought as one.
A tormented love a single rose.
So tender you were stained of many.
But a portraiht to me.
Your words a soon to be epitapth of my pain cast memory.
Thank you for never seeing me as so many befor.
Many works of art are cast in pain.
Dove's of life often cry a tear when met to dirt.
I held you close once apon a empty floor only not tight enough.
Music that cast a passion lights so dim often gliow with soul.
I see you now and think of that time.
Tender in a stone that is a chamber I call my heart.
I wish I could have brushed away the pain.
As I did a hair that night from your face.
Thoose eyes a void of passion life often does ****
If you had taken that hand would we have found ourselves?
Or simpley lost it togather in a vague chance at bliss?
I remember you still.
A painting of a woman known to many but who's heart
was shared only with me.
That moment apon the bar's empty floor forever fill's my
thought's
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