Some mood music of my own..
10/23/03
Concaved onto ones arches,
Finding home in ones tears,
Steady and piercing as nazi marches,
Invoking in doubt ones fears.
A sky and sand in st. john,
A minute of ecstasy to blow,
Like a sun at the crack of dawn,
A view, for one second too slow.
And the duke and earl never died,
In this war of roses called life,
Joan of Arc was never tried,
Nor did my mind experience strife.
Internally, a smile followed with sin,
I lie kneeling waiting for you,
Waiting for those lights to dim,
A time when the sky is really blue.
A poem i wrote a while ago, in the gallego monologues, its meaning i will leave for you to interpret, as it is different for everyone. I wish for a perfect world, thinking i will never see it, but some rare moments make me think its there. But when those moments pass as a glimmer, every other passing day is nothing but a reminder of where I really am. Alive..yet not really alive.
Concaved onto ones arches,
Finding home in ones tears,
Steady and piercing as nazi marches,
Invoking in doubt ones fears.
A sky and sand in st. john,
A minute of ecstasy to blow,
Like a sun at the crack of dawn,
A view, for one second too slow.
And the duke and earl never died,
In this war of roses called life,
Joan of Arc was never tried,
Nor did my mind experience strife.
Internally, a smile followed with sin,
I lie kneeling waiting for you,
Waiting for those lights to dim,
A time when the sky is really blue.
A poem i wrote a while ago, in the gallego monologues, its meaning i will leave for you to interpret, as it is different for everyone. I wish for a perfect world, thinking i will never see it, but some rare moments make me think its there. But when those moments pass as a glimmer, every other passing day is nothing but a reminder of where I really am. Alive..yet not really alive.