Dmac
10-19-07, 11:09 AM
Riding the waves of the ocean consumed by catastrophies,
words unspoken, mental melodic notes made to be shared within the emotion,
or...ridden with the motion,
thoughts unmade connecting, yet loss of focus as the first blood is drawn and...pictured, and...wow...
skin rawed and thoughts gone...
it is what it is while her joys...blown,
Like the october winds on the dead leaves off the sleeping trees of the winter,
Feeling the tide of the waves consumed by the majesty of tragedy,
stories untold, realize, real eyes, realize, real lies,
as the moment passes and the caution found is lost again,
driven into hiding by the forgotten,
and the protection of the wired fence and rabid dogs,
that have come to be known as your barriers returned to haunt my dreams,
as they lead your mind to disagree with your heart,
yet again, or was it the first ?
the capacity for this insanity that I try to call our bond,
tides low and high, as remarkable as a simple ferras wheel,
or easier yet as a flowing stream,
sometimes bumpy, other times smooth,
sometimes rough and rowdy, and other times calm and quiet,
tell me, what is the story behind those beautiful eyes,
which refuse to share their secrets, even after they've lost their panties ?
what is your secret Victoria ?
why hide behind conversations of A,B,C, and at times D and F just to distract me ?
what is the point ?, what is the history ?
where do we stand ?
Before I end this in a rant asking why's, why's, and...why's ?
tell me,
would you hope I sheathed my sword and bred deep trust between us ?
or would you prefer I released it in a wild rampage ending in a certain marriage of blood ?
would you prefer we refuse speech of intelligence for moments of insanity ?
or would you prefer we stayed political and cold in our manner towards one another ?
before you answer finally.....
I wish you to realize, real eyes, realize, real eyes.
words unspoken, mental melodic notes made to be shared within the emotion,
or...ridden with the motion,
thoughts unmade connecting, yet loss of focus as the first blood is drawn and...pictured, and...wow...
skin rawed and thoughts gone...
it is what it is while her joys...blown,
Like the october winds on the dead leaves off the sleeping trees of the winter,
Feeling the tide of the waves consumed by the majesty of tragedy,
stories untold, realize, real eyes, realize, real lies,
as the moment passes and the caution found is lost again,
driven into hiding by the forgotten,
and the protection of the wired fence and rabid dogs,
that have come to be known as your barriers returned to haunt my dreams,
as they lead your mind to disagree with your heart,
yet again, or was it the first ?
the capacity for this insanity that I try to call our bond,
tides low and high, as remarkable as a simple ferras wheel,
or easier yet as a flowing stream,
sometimes bumpy, other times smooth,
sometimes rough and rowdy, and other times calm and quiet,
tell me, what is the story behind those beautiful eyes,
which refuse to share their secrets, even after they've lost their panties ?
what is your secret Victoria ?
why hide behind conversations of A,B,C, and at times D and F just to distract me ?
what is the point ?, what is the history ?
where do we stand ?
Before I end this in a rant asking why's, why's, and...why's ?
tell me,
would you hope I sheathed my sword and bred deep trust between us ?
or would you prefer I released it in a wild rampage ending in a certain marriage of blood ?
would you prefer we refuse speech of intelligence for moments of insanity ?
or would you prefer we stayed political and cold in our manner towards one another ?
before you answer finally.....
I wish you to realize, real eyes, realize, real eyes.