further more, further more upon that twisted path
a labyrinth of minds emotions
trying to re
live
the past.
chunks of time taken from inside
memories fasding fast--
in the shadows you try to hide
but the present is where one cannot find;
hidden in what is lost.
Lost lovers, love lives
hiding under covers,
where one should never estimate over
the bridge that builds trust and ships.
Ships that sail across the sand,
so dry and desolate.
Here you take what is not yours,
and embrace the
starving
quiet.
Practicing in the dark,
the curtains have all burned.
A star shoots across the carpet,
and falls
on
to
the
floor.
Desperate faces, lost in the maze,
and nothing is ever going to change
unless you take
that first
step
and then accept
what it is
that they call
death.
May 3, 2010
May 3, 2010 at 10:25 AM UTC
further more, further more upon that twisted path
a labyrinth of minds emotions
trying to re
live
the past.
chunks of time taken from inside
memories fasding fast--
in the shadows you try to hide
but the present is where one cannot find;
hidden in what is lost.
Lost lovers, love lives
hiding under covers,
where one should never estimate over
the bridge that builds trust and ships.
Ships that sail across the sand,
so dry and desolate.
Here you take what is not yours,
and embrace the
starving
quiet.
Practicing in the dark,
the curtains have all burned.
A star shoots across the carpet,
and falls
on
to
the
floor.
Desperate faces, lost in the maze,
and nothing is ever going to change
unless you take
that first
step
and then accept
what it is
that they call
death.
