| Requiem Every emotion felt rumbles with the echoing ghost of you. Rain falling; Supplements my tears. A single snowflake, on your cheek, Substitutes yours. Dancing remnants under moon and stars. Conquering the day; inciting the sunset. Lying together, basked in the blue tones of midnight. Reflecting and refracting the light off of each other's skin. Day broke with each part in your lips. Now the world is under a shroud of black hail. The sky, cracking with the cyan, magenta, and yellow of your Technicolor contempt. Then I rain. Flickering of the dreamscape of Christmas lights in the clouds. Lightning bolts of spectrums emitting from our atmosphere. The blissful absolute infinite of our thunder. Rumbling and echoing the definitive shadows of our being. Cloaked and masked heart. The illusion of your emotion, confronting my own, On the black and white squares on the past; The problem is gray. Our union, Held captive by the encasement of a casket, Descends into the barren dirt of our world. The barren dirt; nurtured by the lay of my bleeding love. You gaze down upon me, bleeding and dying at your feet. My hand reaches for the compromise in yours, the salvation of my dead world. But your suicidal flaunting of le mepris... My dead world, covered in snow. |
| Requiem [Revised] (The original version is published below. Special thanks to Marilyn Taylor for the help with my revision.) Dancing remnants under moon and stars. Conquering the day; inciting the sunset. Lying together, basked in the blue tones of midnight. Reflecting and refracting the light off of each other's skin. Day breaks with each part in your lips. Now the world is under a shroud of black hail. The sky, cracking with the cyan, magenta, and yellow of your Technicolor contempt. Then I rain. Flickering of the dreamscape of Christmas lights in the clouds. Lightning bolts of spectrums emitting from our atmosphere. The blissful absolute infinite of our thunder. Rumbling and echoing the definitive shadows of our being. Cloaked and masked heart. The illusion of your emotion, confronting my own, On the black and white squares on the past; The problem is gray. Our union, Held captive by the encasement of a casket, Descends into the barren dirt of our world. The barren dirt; nurtured by the lay of my bleeding love. |