Shes always my past waiting to drag me to a time eternal.
As nightmare's are but my deepest desire.
When happiness was more than a word unknown to me.
As we cling to it gently knowing the reality wakes
us alone.
Togather in desperation I wish only to erase this
vision to save the pressent.
She's knows it's near the moment we can never face.
In the darknest it's in fear I regret what we'll
remain of my heart a vacant space.
The breeze slip's over the over the dying summers breath.
A angel's last rites and this demons favorite disgrace.
As sunrise kill's my heart of dreams im left alone.
The feeling so real.
False was that time killing only me still
This fool yerns to embrace.
The memory that never matched the face.
I write my farwell to you everynight in the
theater of my faded heart.
Killing me to live the shock has left me numb.
Tortures of a sadness smiles sweet as the kiss
We share that only in my souls bitter reflection.
As the sunrise take's me away to my waking misery.
My days but a marker to my bittersweet end.
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 3:10 AM UTC
Shes always my past waiting to drag me to a time eternal.
As nightmare's are but my deepest desire.
When happiness was more than a word unknown to me.
As we cling to it gently knowing the reality wakes
us alone.
Togather in desperation I wish only to erase this
vision to save the pressent.
She's knows it's near the moment we can never face.
In the darknest it's in fear I regret what we'll
remain of my heart a vacant space.
The breeze slip's over the over the dying summers breath.
A angel's last rites and this demons favorite disgrace.
As sunrise kill's my heart of dreams im left alone.
The feeling so real.
False was that time killing only me still
This fool yerns to embrace.
The memory that never matched the face.
I write my farwell to you everynight in the
theater of my faded heart.
Killing me to live the shock has left me numb.
Tortures of a sadness smiles sweet as the kiss
We share that only in my souls bitter reflection.
As the sunrise take's me away to my waking misery.
My days but a marker to my bittersweet end.
Even the fool has a reson to were his mask
Request permission to use this poem