deepundergroundpoetry.com
Crying
From the depths of my imagination,
Springs a lie told by man,
Your spoken words tear my binding,
As sullen pages fall to floor.
A fautering heart beat begins,
I feel it as my own,
Deep inside, a curtin's drawn,
For rather protection than to be shown.
And trapped within this lustris cage,
A wilted flower cries,
She whispers on most lonesome nights,
A tale of two lovers denied.
From the depths of my imagination,
Springs a lie told by man,
Your spoken words tear my binding,
As sullen pages fall to floor.
Springs a lie told by man,
Your spoken words tear my binding,
As sullen pages fall to floor.
A fautering heart beat begins,
I feel it as my own,
Deep inside, a curtin's drawn,
For rather protection than to be shown.
And trapped within this lustris cage,
A wilted flower cries,
She whispers on most lonesome nights,
A tale of two lovers denied.
From the depths of my imagination,
Springs a lie told by man,
Your spoken words tear my binding,
As sullen pages fall to floor.
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