windows closed watch a mid-twenties hearth. black petal water - a magic mug steaming thoughts of real lives yet dormant. indigo country sounds echo ‘round a calm silent darkness – dream cabin. far away, a booming planet sleeps.
the clear fire flickers, expecting a promised rainbow soul - hers to it. iris opens her eyes to the flames.
And I am not in the mood to look at the moon. Show me the sun in the hours of its rise so my eyes will pay the price for letting the memory of you vanish from their dark irises; those which will burn along with the sun and will have a reason to cry while looking up to the sky.
He sang along to the trumpets in his head, as the radio once did. "I'll always be there for you," He stuttered past his heart. The coldness locking his beath in a frozen cloud of smoke intertwining in the frosted skies, "Then you told me no," His hands quivered in his sleeves where scars left no marks, while his voice was breaking like broken bones. He never finishes his dying lyrics, with the notes dangling in the air, for someone else to pair. And an iris left at the stairs.
in a sea of roses so brilliant and bright i'd give you a bouquet with their petals in color from red to white to yellow to blue and watch the casting shades beam in your eyes worth more than an iris with love deep as a lily and whenever i'm with you i see a field of dandelions because you are worth so much more then a garden of roses
A heart can beat Without oxygen For a minute Starlight gleam For an eternity seem A gander can fly Across the open sky Till it's out of sight And yet noone can reach you Noone even tries Because even fools recognize The unobtainable Untouchable height That is your virtuous value In my eyes