The sounds of worlds colliding
became their theme.
The electric cottonballs
of supernovas lit
their dwindling path
and they gulped down words
--like "hope" and "promise"--
to soothe their burning tongues.
Two bodies falling tangentially.
They were born
haphazardly and lived
and ceased
with each accidental brush
of their hands.
With their world-calloused hands,
they bore heartbreak.
With singed tongues,
they gave pain a name.
With storming eyes,
they eclipsed the stars.
But with their ears,
they heard tomorrow.
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
The sounds of worlds colliding
became their theme.
The electric cottonballs
of supernovas lit
their dwindling path
and they gulped down words
--like "hope" and "promise"--
to soothe their burning tongues.
Two bodies falling tangentially.
They were born
haphazardly and lived
and ceased
with each accidental brush
of their hands.
With their world-calloused hands,
they bore heartbreak.
With singed tongues,
they gave pain a name.
With storming eyes,
they eclipsed the stars.
But with their ears,
they heard tomorrow.
