(no subject)
It was the day before
and the rain feel from the sky
in mischievious patterns
disabling all hopes of a clear view,
even from the tower.
The clouds were hardly invisible
and my slumber was interrupted
by the angry gods seeking revenge.
Because of our insomniatic nature
we lie awake telling stories of the past
and of future aspirations.
I would always tell of how I longed for the comfort of the past
and you would tell me to stop wishing my life away
and I would always respect your responses.
We had the kind of relationship only true lovers share
but it left with the seasons, and just as unexplainable.
Centuries later, I still long for the comfort of the past
but, ironically enough, your words now remain a vague memory.
and the rain feel from the sky
in mischievious patterns
disabling all hopes of a clear view,
even from the tower.
The clouds were hardly invisible
and my slumber was interrupted
by the angry gods seeking revenge.
Because of our insomniatic nature
we lie awake telling stories of the past
and of future aspirations.
I would always tell of how I longed for the comfort of the past
and you would tell me to stop wishing my life away
and I would always respect your responses.
We had the kind of relationship only true lovers share
but it left with the seasons, and just as unexplainable.
Centuries later, I still long for the comfort of the past
but, ironically enough, your words now remain a vague memory.