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It carried a thousands swords,

waging internal wars.

Questions of

Love's 

Tender, bitter hatred.

(The moment's never faded)

"Caress me with a fantasy?" I ask,

Soon drowned in an empty flask,

Begging for 

 

REALITY:

 

Lies placed tactfully

Decietful tastes pressed upon the lips

Of an anti-mistress,

Slips of the "L", 

And a pale 

Smile.

 


 

 

All the while,

Wanting, needing, feasting 

For truth in it's meaning.

 

There!

Photograph's framless state of jubilation?

No!

Tis True Love's wicked temptation!

 

...

 

What difference 

exists,

Between dreams of 

a queen

And denying the erroneous

Speculations of my Loneliness?

 

Sans these thoughts and this trial;

I've burned memories to forge my denial.

Comments (1)

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I like this thx

wickedwahine_69
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