Hello, Love.

[bennyb]

Vehemently, i digress.

In a pantheon of sorts, your heart grows cold.
the god of the sun has shut off his mirrors,
and you lye freezing in the depths of your own mind.
wracked are the bandstands which once held you in glory,
Your face, is twisted in thought, and has been.

A Split proposed, for a time unmeasured
could bring eternal bliss, or, a cry for mercy
at the hands of god himself. i envision a white
wall with a bed. They awake from a long hibernation,
clean, and refreshed, in each others loving arms.
All i know is time are difficult.
for both parties, both armies.
can we really not hold hands and climb a mountain
at the same time?