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Are there any human stories left To set the fires in our heart Have we walked across the coals In faith Or turned the cinders of our weeping Into blood And they said that man is sleeping Beneath the imprisoned eyelash of a woman And we had nothing left to share We had nothing left to dare As if we were buried beneath her tears Of misunderstood Was it those tactile fingertips Told us there was so much more than this A coloured voodoo, and if you do And only if you will to Could you Reach between their touch And break the salted seal; of a kiss And less would be the life we lead and all we need Would be Far too much So you follow in the paper chase The tatter and the fritter in a life of waste Battering at the sinew Of some illusive intoxication spelled out in all the syllables of L . O. V. E … It’s not that you don’t have the time to dream But all our dreams are filled with pain Beneath the presence of almighty God Have we ever stopped to question what And why We all live in fear so much Driven by the concocted spell Of life’s never ending death |
Good writing on this. It could use some more editing and polish but it's good as it is too...| Posted on 2011-06-30 00:00:00 | by Paradox | [ Reply to This ] | |