Past of dread, to you I cry.
Please duly note, I plead.
Life of yearning, that of grief,
A pliant concept, need.
A path of stone, of certain way
Now broken, loss of canter.
I stumble through unmarked loam
Lonely thoughts seek banter.
Odd, true, that one might wish for this,
As sadness, I begrudge.
Important, here, regard from now.
To first address; you'll judge.
In the greeting, first of words
Do give way to what's sought.
History, then, is what is found.
That late mind's state: distraught.
Define this current mode I must.
It's clarity you shall know.
Vital I cast my wish complete,
Lest current hate should grow.
The prints of blame lie with a poll.
Disheveled souls, align.
Debauched deceit has had its say.
Count souls that don't count time.
This moment owning essence,
All alone it does decay.
Crying out to hopelessness,
As it loses will to stay.
Thus, being sole, the toll is one
A total far too great.
For none should bear such shameful fear.
Lasciviousness, abate!
Now cast a line behind your eyes.
Despite this glare, you'll find.
That love controlled the souls in there.
Worst ruthlessness, I'd bind.
The past shall census, finding none!
No vultures there did thrive.
No broken hearts to feed upon.
It's then I felt alive.
The souls did then discern a span.
A fear's place served a point.
Its force directed to all times
Hands couldn't form a joint.
See, souls combine when they align,
And thus, they become one.
In more than what's been stated, then
They counted thus as none.
It's in that line of olden count
The core of her and me
Did stand together, side by side
As proof that grief can't see.
Adjacent then, to these the polled
Stood third of counted spirits.
A woven work of love that drove
All sadness far from near it.
The number past, then being none
Shows no decaying soul.
Just two who's only fears did lie.
In a separated whole.
Sadness, then, was due to love,
As now, it's due to hate.
And this is why I wish for aches
Of bygone days of wait.
A time when hurts were dealt with words.
A simple I love you
Was all it took to calm the nerves
When badly missing you.
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 7:02 AM UTC
Past of dread, to you I cry.
Please duly note, I plead.
Life of yearning, that of grief,
A pliant concept, need.
A path of stone, of certain way
Now broken, loss of canter.
I stumble through unmarked loam
Lonely thoughts seek banter.
Odd, true, that one might wish for this,
As sadness, I begrudge.
Important, here, regard from now.
To first address; you'll judge.
In the greeting, first of words
Do give way to what's sought.
History, then, is what is found.
That late mind's state: distraught.
Define this current mode I must.
It's clarity you shall know.
Vital I cast my wish complete,
Lest current hate should grow.
The prints of blame lie with a poll.
Disheveled souls, align.
Debauched deceit has had its say.
Count souls that don't count time.
This moment owning essence,
All alone it does decay.
Crying out to hopelessness,
As it loses will to stay.
Thus, being sole, the toll is one
A total far too great.
For none should bear such shameful fear.
Lasciviousness, abate!
Now cast a line behind your eyes.
Despite this glare, you'll find.
That love controlled the souls in there.
Worst ruthlessness, I'd bind.
The past shall census, finding none!
No vultures there did thrive.
No broken hearts to feed upon.
It's then I felt alive.
The souls did then discern a span.
A fear's place served a point.
Its force directed to all times
Hands couldn't form a joint.
See, souls combine when they align,
And thus, they become one.
In more than what's been stated, then
They counted thus as none.
It's in that line of olden count
The core of her and me
Did stand together, side by side
As proof that grief can't see.
Adjacent then, to these the polled
Stood third of counted spirits.
A woven work of love that drove
All sadness far from near it.
The number past, then being none
Shows no decaying soul.
Just two who's only fears did lie.
In a separated whole.
Sadness, then, was due to love,
As now, it's due to hate.
And this is why I wish for aches
Of bygone days of wait.
A time when hurts were dealt with words.
A simple I love you
Was all it took to calm the nerves
When badly missing you.