If loins, not love, could penetrate my chambers instead of gut wrenching romance
This dance between lovers limbs, whims, brights and dims, could lead me through the dark
And find the way back to me again
Save face from the hurt and pain again
Damn this tangled mess of emotional threads, hanging overhead, like a beaten cloud ready to bend
Bend, pour and flood even more
The sweet turns sour and you can't remember that good feeling before
Chance turns to fate and repeat offenders continue to commit crimes, spit lines, and nestle in the confines
Of your wilting soul, heart decayed, rotting, stinking for the world to see displayed
The end was the beginning if the first time is already the last
And if you want to know the truth of the matter, there's no one left to ask
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7
No comments:
Post a Comment