Post by soulfir3 on Mar 28, 2007 1:44:34 GMT -6
It's in the quiet eve of winter,
that moments drift into my mind
whispers and regrets which fill me
with tears and wary uneasiness
It's as the cold winter eases itself between
the thing layers of curtains shielding my windows,
curtailing themselves over me
a shroud of someone else
It's the dying sanity of silence
those words left unsaid
when everything unheated curls inself into
heated boils, rupturing over fragile flesh
scalding memory with razors jagged edge
It's in the quiet cold death of winter
where the dead, who lay at my feet in the night
bear the deepest, darkest whispers
of what lays inside my heart's beat
that moments drift into my mind
whispers and regrets which fill me
with tears and wary uneasiness
It's as the cold winter eases itself between
the thing layers of curtains shielding my windows,
curtailing themselves over me
a shroud of someone else
It's the dying sanity of silence
those words left unsaid
when everything unheated curls inself into
heated boils, rupturing over fragile flesh
scalding memory with razors jagged edge
It's in the quiet cold death of winter
where the dead, who lay at my feet in the night
bear the deepest, darkest whispers
of what lays inside my heart's beat
