Lo! My heart!

I have found it’s lost home, inside your eye.

And it was there all along, from darkness it has hid.

But now as I am to write the ways I love,

You know I cannot write, but your name.

Have you ever seen blossomed quagmire?

The morning sun looms on it very strange.

The certain rue of desolate makes the owls

Cry tears upon ones that had left.

But lo! ‘tis not that hour of leaking faith,

‘tis a need to purge that hath stayed.

So, as everything was born twain,

And not a single thing hap in vain,

Nor were my tears shed silent,

For they have found my love.

 

No! ‘tis not reminiscence I seek,

Nor do I bare the same pattern of old faces I have seen.

I love thee in such ways that cannot be, nor felt, nor touched, nor seen.

Ah! You have born a child in me! -From this old man tired of being.

The rejoice my mouths cannot speak, comes from your nose,

Your lips, your chin and cheeks.

Full of life, they bestow upon me all the weal I have miss’d.

And who could ever tell that this rose in sunset I will see?

It was dying in silence, yet in silence it made it’s seat.

 

She played the tunes of wolves howling at moons

With her long fingered hands,

She pressed the Pain’s tabs,

And in her silence of scream she swoons.

 

But, I have seen this and I have come, not to rescue,

But to drink her sorrow, and with her poison to live,

To bring you plague of sun that looms here,

To show you you’re not alone, nor such you ever wake.

 

 

5.2.2006

23:27

ušao si na crveni deo sklale lame-o-metra

 

Edited February 9, 200619 yr by KRANG

Old poetry style....nice!

 

 

Krang!!!!

PORTAL!!!!

wow-pesma je extra..

Hvala.