You, my dear, are a work of art -
you are both the poison and the cure
for my easy heart
And no rain will come for my burning soul,
I'll burn until my heart is dust.
Alas, how I wish to hold your soft hair
and be the last whisper in your ear
as you drift afar into your dreams
my dearest dearest darling
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
You, my dear, are a work of art -
you are both the poison and the cure
for my easy heart
And no rain will come for my burning soul,
I'll burn until my heart is dust.
Alas, how I wish to hold your soft hair
and be the last whisper in your ear
as you drift afar into your dreams
my dearest dearest darling