I find myself in this day,
it is tattered, with decay,
the last chast, a gasp from the birth of day,
I find a rythm found, as we find a way to chase the biosness away,
as I look down and see a silent blond child crying the night away...
I can see the seperation of today as I fall, into her spell.
I can't slow it down, she makes me feel alive,
I am speeding up and cant slow down..
I feel alive past that cave I was told to save....
I am here in this accent called english we have learned so well!!1
Call the naves call the dreads,
call the darkness for we are all so fed,
I am listening to her moan,
in life as I soak my oats in the dreams from the dying red woods lost it seems,
I am but at last all that is seemed to be,
a beckon a beacon, guilding the last boats thru the death mans streams...
Hate me if you wish, deny her dying screams and recon you becons,
oh yes they are loud and you wish to welcome her with frowns...
I am part of the cape in the conclave where dreams wish they could escape..
As I sit and touch the words I can feel the drift and feel the fever in the boiling sea's begging me to stop the dream....
If I am hated the aiding of being scared is what magnets the words to the hunger,
decide what you life is a disaster or a free ness to the why and denial of the shadow,
split the atom and see the time, being as one..
you about the same, deny the shame, and cast the cascades to the....
I think I am being summoned to stop....
just to give you a heads up if I find my writing anywhere else me and bill, will more then likely sue the hell outta you.. this is my writing under
the copyright laws of ATS..
edit on 21-3-2011 by Bicent76 because: (no reason given)