that which will not die

 
 
 
if I could, i would steal  
thru the gates of Mt.  
Olympus on some starry  
night and slit the throats  
of the gods as they lay  
in their devine slumber.  
 
I would do all of  
this for a single  
chance  
to:  
 
hold  
you,  
 
kiss  
you,  
 
touch  
you,  
 
but wanting you  
is a ghost that  
wil not  
die.  
 
-so-  
 
let the mountains  
weep.  
 
let the skies shed  
it's sad skin.  
 
let the unsaid word  
die in the throat  
of loneliness.  
 
without  
you,  
I am a desert
pleading for  
the mercy  
of rain
 
as my heart is hunted  
by the dogs of  
fear.  
 
 
 
 
.