I
love you, this nightmare, scared to confess.
Its priests and psychs and
christic
lights, fallin’ through mystics. I
failed a swan, to live it torn, a
mother
at the helm. We never knew, a symbol
broken, to loathe for
souls. I advise dearly, to hold the treasures,
for hell is a reach away;
a
distance, and fretted upclose, to feel a fever. The days for nuance,
have
spewed revenge, where demons linger; thus the nights, to toss for
turns,
to awaken visions. It’s deep for
ears, to whisper chaos, as rain
clashes. The heart explodes, to shoot for chi, as
thrown as daggers. I
love
you living, filled with sprees, laughing and jesting; where suspicion
settles,
to roam a forest, as bright-eyed as newborns. The owls are
poking,
for fun and style, where pain is traveling a membrane. I smile
a
tear, to venture a life, streaming through Beyoncè. Its lights and
grains,
and shields and stars, to ward off affects.
I fall a station, to
ponder
Iggy, and how for such strain. Its
pearls and sorrow, to passion
life,
afraid to confess; but this is hope, to slam a shot, and reason this
life. My dearest Love, the tides are shifting,
but hard to swallow; and
dear
the soul, to slant the stars, in which is love. The world is music,
to dance for tears,
alive allegro; where pain is
segue.
