Spiralwraithe

stand so close for us to see no empty ghosts of what might be a simple session of singing hearts no awkward question of broken parts A heartfelt touch we choose to know no solemn crutch inside we grow From warmth to love, two touching souls no gift above to aid our goals. Be quite a pair of such burning flames no deep despair but innocent games So stand to close for me to see you're no empty ghost of what we could be

When did you choose not to be where I wait When did I lose the will to be late. Might you have seen that infact I am blind that the line it is clean and i am none of a kind There may have been change but now you're slipping away and i forgot to arrange the means to convey that the rule of the strange is to hope its delay not a failed exchange that leads to dismay To gloat in the end without a beginning is to never attend and pretend that you're winning Another chance to try to hope it will work with no solemn goodbye without fault to shirk We can start to advance at a nice easy pace no love at first glance just a th

I'd like to walk with you down a street where nobody knows their neighbour. We could drink domestic beers and pretend like we don't remember each other. I'd say, thanks for coming. you'd say, it's nice to be here; later we would be friends, naked under the covers. I'd blindfold you, you'd blindfold me. We'd pretend we were blind and playing doctor. Exploration of every curve, every mountain, every valley, every cave. I can tell your skin is smooth, just by the way you look at me. But we would stay just friends. Just friends, naked under the covers.

I'd whisk you off to montreal, some forgotten pond in the dead of night. we could skate until the sun came up. bask in the warmth of its light. I'd walk with you to ottawa, where spring yields bulbs of beauty the garden of a thousand kisses A thousand and one, for love and for duty. We could dance our way to venice, we could tango by the shore we would waltz forever on the river where the poets bring end to war I'd sail away to nowhere, just to show you something new. theres a world contained in your eyes I'd never need another view.

The translucent fluid oozed needle soft down around the stone-sharp pinprick into the illest urban phoenix this side of the dark crystal. Jetsam of the smooth glass people, family of the sun, shark infested flu jumps nimbly-bimbly from brady bunch perfection to meditating buddha. The clear essence of money equel to level equel to class is high above the heads of the pointy, annoying shards of existence. The sick beastie evil of young boys gone influenced slides cooly out the tunnel at the end of the light. The night shivers, a cold during convalesence, to forgotten beats of drums long dead. Fire burns the flaming pain of passion and the petr

The boy walked slowly down the street while the earth clawed at his body. He did not wince, nor whine. He said, simply, "You can not have me earth, I am not yours." The boy walked slowly down the street, the light grasped at his heart. He did not sing, nor preach. He said, solemnly, "You can not have me light, I am not yours." The boy walked slowly down the street and the sky tore at his mind. He did not shine, nor fade. He said, purely, "You can not have me sky, I am not yours." The boy spoke to each the earth, the sky and the light. The boy spoke of winces and prayer. He spoke of the invisible and sung, of the bright and malcontent.

It's burning, i'm burning. the lights are brighter here. but the heat is just heat. the lights are blinding here. the city and the sky are on fire. i know. and angels cry. i keep to the ground for fear of flames. im losing my grip. you're slipping away. im just easing in. im waiting to fall. the sweat on my palms. the wet on the wood. the sensation of falling. im losing my grip. the city and the sky are on fire. i know. and angels fly.