luni, 23 ianuarie 2012

In visul meu erai a mea [...caci inger voi fi...]


In visul meu erai a mea
Acum lacrimi plang de dor si doare
Caci pe patul de petale...m-ai privit cum...mor.
Si inger voi fi,inger am fost mereu
Nu pot sta deoaprte...tu esti sufletul meu...
Doar aunci cand imi zambesti
Faci totul sa se opreaasca
Si  ploua si e soare...cu tine...fericirea e fireasca...

Un comentariu:

  1. I Love You...


    I love you, I don't know why, but I do.
    I love you, even if others may not.
    I love your painted on face, your fake hair, and your flamboyant clothing.
    I love your smile, even when it is forced.
    I love you, even though I don't really know you, but then, does anyone really know you?
    You act a certain way and say such wonderful things, yet you hide behind such a twisted facade.
    So is this really you?

    I love you, though time and space both divide us so, mirroring the way my soul and heart are torn.
    I love you, even though I hate you, and you hate me.
    I love the way you smell, though I have never inhaled your sweet aroma.
    I love the way you feel, yet I have never experienced the soft velvet that your skin surely is.
    I love the way you taste, oh how I long to feel my lips pressed against your ugly body.
    Am I crazy for feeling this way? Probably, but then, aren't you the epitome of crazy, so am I really so wrong?

    I love your torment, oh how it taints my being.
    I love you and your unsung song of death.
    I love your undying vengeance for those who've wronged you.
    I love your eyes of glass which change from day to day.
    I love your ever-growing sorrow, is some of it because of me?
    This is not me, for I am too smart for this, but then, why do I feel so stupid, Is it you who makes me this way?

    I love my lust for you, though I know not what lust is...
    I love the way you make me smile, and make me cry.
    I love the way you drag me down, into the dark abyss of your strange creation.
    I love they way that I can no longer look at myself the same again.
    I love you and all your faults, for they are my faults as well.
    I yearn for you, though you don't feel this way for me, but then, isn't my life always so one sided?
    Of course you don't love me; how could you?

    I love looking at you through the glass that is my life, oh what a miserable life it is.
    I love you in your absence, which comes much too often, like the burning sun blotting out the beautiful stars.
    I love your name and how it rolls off the tongue like something written by an old insane poet.
    I love you, and desire to see you fall, so I can lift you back up.
    I love you I and want to die, so you can bring me back to life.
    With this said, I'll end this poem, but then, is this really a poem, or is it what lurks at the bottom of my empty broken heart?

    God, I love you...

    RăspundețiȘtergere