Elixer, by me.
I'm gonna do this one more time, this
myriad of dreams and these days are giving
me nightmares, and I hate it when I sleep.
For in the trove of cluttered war relics
and deep down in the boxes of musty
things, there is a place of tears, too deep.
Standing alone, all, in the winter with a robe
and nothing else but hope, looming above
the computer, a fleeting thought of love
passed, feel the hours slip through veins
and fall from one of the times we'd run
through the streets and down the lanes
of masters, when we we're gods of creation.
One thing that must be said is that during
that winter haven, in the house of necessity,
there was always one thing on the mind, yearning.
To give and to recieve from the others in kind
was a lesson well worth experiencing and learning.