Ah, yes let us begin this wicked little game we play.
The one that keeps me longing, within a token of dreams unresolved...
For one sweet kiss in a passing moment I pray.
The one in which I hope to see, the dance of death involved.
A time may soon come when I no longer desire or wish to be.
A little puppet on your strings, to be pulled and tossed around
The wretched confines of my soul trapped, somehow never free.
My heart at your hands disposal, but only through said strings bound.
I wish for the gentle whisper of your lips, against that which would willingly lay to rest.
Oh but weary be the soul that awaits, for your presence near.
Though it is a heavy sigh I breathe, for that would not seem to be nature’s bequest.
As final words escape, in a ragged gasp, a startling cry of fear.
At last you have come. No more shall I wait, for that which my soul did yearn.
Here in this lingering second a remorseful backwards glance, I did give.
For if ignorance be bliss, then I have to wonder what it was my mind would never learn.
What is this regret I have, sitting before the scythe, to live?
No. No more, for what is it meant when we say we are alive.
With faith misguided, what is there left for a downward spiraling race.
Although our blood may be warm beneath our veins, we do not truly thrive.
Awakening for myself has now come, and I refuse to slow the pace.
For that which I once looked to as an ever present guiding light.
Left me with nothing but misplaced trust, a painful last meeting.
So, now the final minutes pass, my gaze drawn into the night.
As I stand in judgment’s path, wits about me now fleeting.
I lift my hand to your face, eyes downward cast.
For now there are no longer words left for me to repeat.
Lips lifting to yours, forgetting the past.
As they taste death’s kiss bittersweet.
Speedy McPedalfast · Sat Aug 19, 2006 @ 10:47am · 0 Comments |