Bled, we were, upon an ocean gulf
To spread South, to where distant heat resides.
And, to heal, to kneel, with eyes upon the sun,
And, to feel, to seal, our wounds with our own tears.
You have a heartbeat that skips
Stones upon the water’s surface.
Lost, though found, on death’s own compound,
Found, but bound, with Hell to hear for its sound.
The oceans we ride, glistening in the blood we pour
From eyes, to the flood from our cries,
We are forevermore, alike the waves that show blankness.
We could never be, alike the notes over the sea.
We are merely the blood, the wash from our eyes,
Spilling from the sins of our souls,
Felt by the pain, caused by our hands,
For love is the feeling of fame.
Love, as well, the sight of flame,
Nestled in our minds,
But, our hearts show the heat,
Lifted to where we think.
Your face, a sight of blue,
Your form, a yellowish hue.
And, you contrast in the dew,
For me to lay a quilt that is new.