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jacob-1Poems
My oh my dear handmaiden The brevity of your eyes is a childish curse, but Long is the chill of a single winter night A basement full of taxidermed trophies Death and dust fill flat stale air Lying in a corner of silence Bound in electrical tape Gagged by a silk tie There is no rhyme or reason Or meaning to it all It is the addition of numbers and variables Multiplied by powers Do you not understand the color of sunsets The beauty of a passing day Human passing is not a thing of beauty It is a quiet tune playing on a record The sound of cold water dripping from pipes The feeling of sleep washing over me With a thousand angels Waiting to carry me on
0
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 1:10 PM UTC
Lekt
My oh my dear handmaiden The brevity of your eyes is a childish curse, but Long is the chill of a single winter night A basement full of taxidermed trophies Death and dust fill flat stale air Lying in a corner of silence Bound in electrical tape Gagged by a silk tie There is no rhyme or reason Or meaning to it all It is the addition of numbers and variables Multiplied by powers Do you not understand the color of sunsets The beauty of a passing day Human passing is not a thing of beauty It is a quiet tune playing on a record The sound of cold water dripping from pipes The feeling of sleep washing over me With a thousand angels Waiting to carry me on
jacob-1
Written by
jacob-1
Equatorial Guinean
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 1:10 PM UTC
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