let's lay on the rooftop
and smoke
until our curious lungs burn
and we'd run out of words to say
but 'i love you'

(i love you)
like the words were spoken for the first time
and we're already drunk with the idea of (love's) reciprocity

The truth lies
not in her eyes,
for she learned
long ago
how to forge
desperate lies.

It's as she was
conditioned to do...
to tell lies
with her eyes,
and beguile
with her smile.

The truth lies
not in her eyes,
but if you must know
just where her
verity dwells...

it's in her voice...

the timber,
the rhythm,
the words,
the whispers
in the sound.

It's in her voice
that her truth
will be found.

Can you hear it?




By Mercurychyld
Copyrights

the world turns never so dark

light is seen
only with closed eyes.