O, the pitter patter of your heart,
which drips softly to the floor
the stale blood, oxidized and cold,
pounding to find the rhythmic enchantment
of the Sirens' song, painful and imploring,
wistful and waning, pitter patter.
O, lonely lullaby of allure,
Rocking and cradling the ears
With harmonic lyrics and sound,
A gentle goodnight kiss
Upon the tear stained petal of a budding rose,
Soft, red, and ready to blossom
O, silently sitting in the smoky room,
To slumber in the shadows of dreams.
No comments:
Post a Comment