deepundergroundpoetry.com
Darkness Falls
]DARKNESS FALLS
As light fades
my mind wanders
Always to thoughts of you
I know I have done wrong
Pain I have dealt like cards
A hand I could never win
As darkness falls
I hate myself
In the light it gets no better
I've done wrong
all for none
All the while I thought what fun
No looking back
on deeds we've done
the tide brings new hope
Your heart it sees
that all bad deeds were just
The idiocy of a weak willed man
Possessed by a demon
Of smoke and glass
As darkness falls those deeds shall pass
As light fades
my mind wanders
Always to thoughts of you
I know I have done wrong
Pain I have dealt like cards
A hand I could never win
As darkness falls
I hate myself
In the light it gets no better
I've done wrong
all for none
All the while I thought what fun
No looking back
on deeds we've done
the tide brings new hope
Your heart it sees
that all bad deeds were just
The idiocy of a weak willed man
Possessed by a demon
Of smoke and glass
As darkness falls those deeds shall pass
Published 16th Jan 2013
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16th Jan 2013 5:42am
No looking back
on deeds we've done
the tide brings new hope
True statement, true words, beautiful!!
on deeds we've done
the tide brings new hope
True statement, true words, beautiful!!
19th Jan 2013 3:19pm
A serious curse to derive wisdom from the past.
Spurious bursts re-writing visions that last.
Curious immersed in what's hiding within each laugh and gasp.
What lasts is in the scoping. Vast beyond scoping and hoping. Or wrath invoking from self-loathing. What lasts is the collective. The cloud. The what-if's. Silent and elegant in fog. Like a violently pregnant pause. Pop what fits in what's so silent and loud.
Wily sense allowed to gain a new perspective to join a cloud. New collectives from inspecting what's learned and investing proud.
Pride past self-loathing but the wealth of new rules showing. Is still owing. To eternal needling like internal bleeding.
Speaking still from the span of the weak will of man.
Fuck Freud. Fuck what anyone did. Fuck all the noise to avoid. Fuck the ID!
I love your work!
Spurious bursts re-writing visions that last.
Curious immersed in what's hiding within each laugh and gasp.
What lasts is in the scoping. Vast beyond scoping and hoping. Or wrath invoking from self-loathing. What lasts is the collective. The cloud. The what-if's. Silent and elegant in fog. Like a violently pregnant pause. Pop what fits in what's so silent and loud.
Wily sense allowed to gain a new perspective to join a cloud. New collectives from inspecting what's learned and investing proud.
Pride past self-loathing but the wealth of new rules showing. Is still owing. To eternal needling like internal bleeding.
Speaking still from the span of the weak will of man.
Fuck Freud. Fuck what anyone did. Fuck all the noise to avoid. Fuck the ID!
I love your work!
28th Jan 2013 7:16am
