Could man be drunk for ever
With liquor, love, or fights,
Lief should I rouse at morning
And lief lie down of nights.
But men at whiles are sober
And think by fits and starts,
And if they think, they fasten
Their hands upon their hearts.
Written by a drunk
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Damo
I wish wishes. Didn't exist. I wish the world. Was woven with bliss. I wish that life. Never took nasty twists. And that prayers. We're not needed. And that pain. Was a myth. I have a dream.
Is this fate, Or is this love. Is this real, Or a gift from above. Is this destiny, Or is this perfection. Is this true, Or just small affection. Is this life, Or is this your heart.
The lines of poetry twist and turn, A maze of words untouched, unturned. Each golden drop of sunshine burns, Every word as ashes leave, blurred.
Phantom, with your eyes so bright, Can you take away the night. Phantom, with your heart so cold, Can you keep me young and old. Phantom, with your diamond vice, Can you take my heart of ice.
#nightdwellers A mirror is all it takes, Beauty it never wakes And hearts it only breaks.
Bore into me the strength You promised to give So I could remain alive To love you till I passed.
Another stab at wacky free form. Adapted from Angel Beast. #nightdweller ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I opened my sacred book again at days end, and saw smiling grimace against daily imperfections.
I wonder as you stare, That perhaps you're as mad as a hare, What great Oceanic eyes, That sit and learn of my demise, Can you see my soul. Or is there just a hole.
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