Written in these eyes,
Is an ancient love,
Not known to many,
But only to two.
Sinful eyes,
Have yet thee to desire,
With this lustful love;
An endless, passing fire.
Though such hearts,
Were not fully bloomed,
Such hearts these were -
An endless abyss of ache.
Knowing such things,
Yet such are denied,
So did they love in lust,
Not knowing that such a love would die.
In each’s hands they laid,
Ghosts of each other,
All for young saudade,
As each could not find another.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC
Written in these eyes,
Is an ancient love,
Not known to many,
But only to two.
Sinful eyes,
Have yet thee to desire,
With this lustful love;
An endless, passing fire.
Though such hearts,
Were not fully bloomed,
Such hearts these were -
An endless abyss of ache.
Knowing such things,
Yet such are denied,
So did they love in lust,
Not knowing that such a love would die.
In each’s hands they laid,
Ghosts of each other,
All for young saudade,
As each could not find another.
