Blackened sheets,
Wet by bad memories.
Blackened pillows,
Stained by her tears.
She gave up on the dream
In the cruelest fashion.
Still, I caught a drop of passion
Just as bright as the gleam
Fighting its way
Past her gaze to her lips.
For she whispered a desire
To me, buried beneath the mire,
To my heart,
Torn apart, on the rise
Of a setting sun,
Of her face in my mind.
I try to bury even further
What will not release
To be beneath
The countless drops to rage the ocean
Outside the subtler motions
Of my quiet cries on the shore.
Like this:
Like Loading...