Buried my dreams
On by one,
Until there were none left
to bury
The blue heart
is heavy
Miss the warmth of the
Tears
And the embrace of the
Vines of pain
The hands bleed
Tired
And they have only
dirt and blisters
The price for the wear and tear
of my conscience
On by one,
Until there were none left
to bury
The blue heart
is heavy
Miss the warmth of the
Tears
And the embrace of the
Vines of pain
The hands bleed
Tired
And they have only
dirt and blisters
The price for the wear and tear
of my conscience
Oh my! Shoud I read it for a poem, or for you? Perhaps it would be unfair to see you in between the lines.. but then these ARE your lines..
Damn. I'm confused :|
I wrote these words and I just kept staring at the last two lines.Well, that's me all the way... =)
it is high time that dolphin comes outa the dark waters of sadness
dolphin... my dear dolphin... the lines say a lot and so also the spaces between the lines... the space or vacuity is where you need to bury your hatchet of sadness...
Profound... I see you're getting famous in the blogging world!