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
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment