Wednesday, March 31, 2010

From a (P)Ledge

Bungee jumping from my bedside post
I see clashing words as though
My eyes derive a future so
Distant
Read the last page of the book.

When I shook your fragile hand
I tried to understand the reason why
This rope is lashing back at me
Its fibers made of brittle gold

I handed you our past, telling you
Take it in pawn
Exchange for illusions
Of a place
A time
Where We want to be
A place our soul comes from
Place where you and me
Be

Satisfying outcries for solutions
For undefined memories in the dust
Covered by many a man's subtle footsteps
Where no one's walked before

We digress from this mess
Given things not meant
To be shared afterall
When it's over, will you give
Me a call?




Image from www.deviantart.com

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