What was this dream? Drift into oblivion distant bliss, on leather clad thrones minds besieged by swaying trees with no breeze to push, with open ears, glide with the rhythm of music mastered by electric guitars and this is too fantastic. Word is easy, warm and with me, as I twist to my right, bathed in a white light, look how she glows, a flesh bound beauty rests in this cushioned nest, her breath, gentle as the music that surrounds my house. As we rest to dream of silent stories, adventures beyond the possibility, impossible lust please rest with me, These heavy hands want to stretch out and grasp but, never will they hold or touch, frustrating notion, heated feeling. Heated feeling. Sinking deep into oblivions inner bliss bound on leather clad thrones, besieged by trees that sway with no breeze to push , open ears glide with the rhythm of music mastered by electronic shades, coloured shapes created this is too fantastic. Sinking eyes grow heavy, slide back into fantasies embrace, close at my side, a white queen, who is she? Her soft feet rest against my cold side; she supports my walls from spilling all my secrets into honesty. I fight for once last glimpse hold on to see that face but, tired mind hit hardest, I slip back into the dark tracked pit, recorded eyes shut-hard, drop into darkness less felt but more sensed, I find myself awakened in a mysterious core. Horror kept internal, Sinking into oblivions fathered rest on leather clad thrones, besieged by leaves that dance with no breeze to push, ears opened wide, with rhythm made by sweet notes, painted by electric guitars this is far too fantastic to be true. Place, I avoid most of all, a silent scream screwed in a dream less felt but dealt, this reality is a reality, Where no pretty woman sits at my side and all secrets are spilled online, no sweet breath warming minds through a troubled demise. Palms left upright, face stuck outright and grasping nothing but Sun lit eyelids, opened and record visual thoughts, no story for the one who wishes to be two but, good tunes still play and the trees are swaying in the breeze, word is easy and this day is care free. Walk on friend, she gone again.
Posted on: Fri, 21 Jun 2013 17:08:50 +0000
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