Post by insanepoets on Feb 26, 2004 17:21:13 GMT -5
As I begin another night, ending
one more day, I whisper to the twilight
the same empty prayer; empty since the
passion has drifted from my empty soul.
A midnight vulture brings tales of all
lost hope, the broken promises,
un-kept secrets and illegitimate death;
dishonesty, disdain, deceit. Cheaters
of lost souls stolen passionately give
them away over falied, futile searches.
"Dreams, broken and lost, all part of death,"
he says softly. "And we die everyday."
I hear these hopeless words of fear each night,
then on a random Tuesday afternoon,
with a tilted head and swallowing eyes
she looks at me, asking me how I'd slept.
one more day, I whisper to the twilight
the same empty prayer; empty since the
passion has drifted from my empty soul.
A midnight vulture brings tales of all
lost hope, the broken promises,
un-kept secrets and illegitimate death;
dishonesty, disdain, deceit. Cheaters
of lost souls stolen passionately give
them away over falied, futile searches.
"Dreams, broken and lost, all part of death,"
he says softly. "And we die everyday."
I hear these hopeless words of fear each night,
then on a random Tuesday afternoon,
with a tilted head and swallowing eyes
she looks at me, asking me how I'd slept.