Small song
Published by Unknown under on 19:23
2 September 2012
Time becomes distant... Our moments (are) the result of an alternate force. Unthinkable, yet inevitable. Like the perception of the brimful and infinite emptiness during the fall, that is how I feel, consumed by your words. In the promise of your bed, my heart crackles. In the peace of your embrace, my soul abates. And the unity of the world quietens, and my woes vanish with the playful smoke that I summon, in these nights with my home afar...
Sometimes I wonder how real is this that I feel, this that I feel you feel. And then I perceive you as near as my breath, as implicit as my omissions. And I miss you, I have you heare, as mine as my voice, more real than my reflection... and more vital than my heartbeat.
Time becomes distant... Our moments (are) the result of an alternate force. Unthinkable, yet inevitable. Like the perception of the brimful and infinite emptiness during the fall, that is how I feel, consumed by your words. In the promise of your bed, my heart crackles. In the peace of your embrace, my soul abates. And the unity of the world quietens, and my woes vanish with the playful smoke that I summon, in these nights with my home afar...
Sometimes I wonder how real is this that I feel, this that I feel you feel. And then I perceive you as near as my breath, as implicit as my omissions. And I miss you, I have you heare, as mine as my voice, more real than my reflection... and more vital than my heartbeat.
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