angels were dancing
underneath the violet sky
they had found the light

drops fell to the ground
while the sun was beaming

“c’est trop beau!”
they sang
at the end of the rainbow

The night is fallen on the East side
Withhold your breath all that stand in the cold
The threshold of peace, not all can afford
When Sitting on the eyes of the storm, the frosty auric slowly abide

Numb your senses, numb your feelings
B’cause tonight is the night of ruling kings
Could all this fortune be your bliss at last?
Or could your bliss your curse become?

Honey dripping from your mouth was my abundance
Instead, you chose among the capital sins
a life of mundane existence and beaming grins

Your hands move steady
But caresses run wild as our kisses dash unfeasibly
The need to attain the out of reach is the pay for pernicious gold.

Fingertips frozen,
Arms up my sleeve.
But I have to write this idea down.
My hands are already filled with ink.
Everything has to be gold these days.
Golden chain, Golden eyes, Golden soul, Golden ring.
Still want to be the one to speak her name as mine though.
It's cold outside,
But I'm colder.
You poor thing.

A little bird
trapped in a golden cage,
fed with precious jewels,
diamonds and pearls.
Had everything
anyone could ever ask,
except for one thing
she can never have.
--- Freedom.

You gift me gold,
bringing back old habits,
remember though that
I never aimed for the stars
nor the way they shine,

I wear the gold around my neck,
with no sparkles in my eyes,
wishing it was silver instead,

you see;
gold bends and stretches,
but silver reflects and deflects,
it can handle reality,
even when things heat up.