We are driven harshly
Through the storms of our love
The rains pierce the skin
That covers our hearts
The rains
Wash away the blood of our dreams
Those tattered edges bleed
The regrets of passion and its fictions
Are we that much alive
What is laid before us
To feel….to grasp
The thorn ****** to bleed
Scales falter
When in nights we clutch ourselves
In both disdain and in desire
Which blamed which
Self or fate
Or the simple fool
But blame need lay fallow
We must compromise ourselves
Letting those parts of our soul
Know the flesh
And the fire
Until the rains come again
Apr 6, 2025
Apr 6, 2025 at 10:12 PM UTC
We are driven harshly
Through the storms of our love
The rains pierce the skin
That covers our hearts
The rains
Wash away the blood of our dreams
Those tattered edges bleed
The regrets of passion and its fictions
Are we that much alive
What is laid before us
To feel….to grasp
The thorn ****** to bleed
Scales falter
When in nights we clutch ourselves
In both disdain and in desire
Which blamed which
Self or fate
Or the simple fool
But blame need lay fallow
We must compromise ourselves
Letting those parts of our soul
Know the flesh
And the fire
Until the rains come again
