deepundergroundpoetry.com
Scenes
Deserving of purpose,
but non do propose
you sing such sad songs
in fractured prose.
you endeared to me,
and I hold you dear to me
as much as I long to oblige you
I can’t record my gleam,
I can’t find notes to suit our melody
no sense to shape to,
to whisper secrets into.
covet, cover, leer me
like a rendered scene,
I wonder what it is,
I can’t figure
what lies between what lines,
I can’t see.
Such subtle scenes,
that do draw blades toward me,
can’t help but bleed.
Heavy with mourning,
You sick, sad, stark-end sky
find me foreign dreams.
and back to this edge,
will seek to meet my glory.
If I could find your face,
in my harrowing night lands,
I’d tell you so,
I love you too and as it grows...
but non do propose
you sing such sad songs
in fractured prose.
you endeared to me,
and I hold you dear to me
as much as I long to oblige you
I can’t record my gleam,
I can’t find notes to suit our melody
no sense to shape to,
to whisper secrets into.
covet, cover, leer me
like a rendered scene,
I wonder what it is,
I can’t figure
what lies between what lines,
I can’t see.
Such subtle scenes,
that do draw blades toward me,
can’t help but bleed.
Heavy with mourning,
You sick, sad, stark-end sky
find me foreign dreams.
and back to this edge,
will seek to meet my glory.
If I could find your face,
in my harrowing night lands,
I’d tell you so,
I love you too and as it grows...
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