When I saw her shining tears
So splendid on that day
I lost my mind to silent fears
And cast my light away
I hid from her my bleeding heart
It's seams were ripped and torn
And, as if by magic art,
A love anew was born.
But not for she who pained me so,
With lies and lust and shame
A fool I was, but now I know
The pleasures of her game
I turn my eyes to better things
A love that does not die
With pride and joy it gladly sings
Like angels in the sky.















Comments
it's good though. hopeful
--
Smile...
--
The fact that you have not read enough to find a better fictional man than a sparkly fake vampire saddens me.
Maddness is an escape...and madness is a metaphor for the paper beneath my pen and the words that spread from my fingers.
--
All art is exorcism. I paint dreams and visions too; the dreams and visions of my time. Painting is the effort to produce order; order in yourself. There is much chaos in me, much chaos in our time.
--
All art is exorcism. I paint dreams and visions too; the dreams and visions of my time. Painting is the effort to produce order; order in yourself. There is much chaos in me, much chaos in our time.
--
Smile...
--
"And I've lost who I am
And I can't understand
Why my heart is so broken
Rejecting your
love without love gone wrong
Lifeless words carry on
But I know
All I know's that the end's beginning"
~"Shattered" Trading Yesterday
--
All art is exorcism. I paint dreams and visions too; the dreams and visions of my time. Painting is the effort to produce order; order in yourself. There is much chaos in me, much chaos in our time.
--
"And I've lost who I am
And I can't understand
Why my heart is so broken
Rejecting your
love without love gone wrong
Lifeless words carry on
But I know
All I know's that the end's beginning"
~"Shattered" Trading Yesterday
Previous PageNext Page