Posts
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Storm
- Power
The light from the bulb,
All of a sudden gone,
Now rush to find light,
As we stumble,
Waiting for the dawn.
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His Gaze Is Real
I always saw you as crisp in autumn,
But as you run, with sweat,
beading on your olive skin,
and the sun's rays baking on your jet-black,
locks,
you are something golden in summer,
maybe royal.
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Growing Beautifully Old
Because that is love,
When my beaten wrinkled skin is still caressed by you,
And your gray smoky hair is my loving obsession.
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Husky Eyes
My treasure is my eyes,
The colors they create,
The color they are,
Gray husky and slate.
My treasure is not captive,
Folded within my pocket,
Loves
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1893
It was just a fluke that I happened to see
The ghost of a girl in 1893
I didn't think much of her, tried to ignore
But then she came 'round in 1894
A spirit was not something that I had wanted
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His Gaze Is Real
I always saw you as crisp in autumn,
But as you run, with sweat,
beading on your olive skin,
and the sun's rays baking on your jet-black,
locks,
you are something golden in summer,
maybe royal.
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Honey voice
I coat my voice with honey
Because you would break
If my words
Were not sugar coated
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Growing Beautifully Old
Because that is love,
When my beaten wrinkled skin is still caressed by you,
And your gray smoky hair is my loving obsession.
