deepundergroundpoetry.com

Scenes.

Deserving of purpose,
but none do propose.
you sing such sad songs
in fractured prose.
but you endeared to me
and I hold you dear to me.
as much as I long to oblige you
I can't preface my gleam,
I can't find the notes to suit our melody.
no sense to shape to,
to whisper secrets into.
cover, cover, leer me
like a rendered scene,
I wondered what it is,
I can't figure
what lies between what lines,
I can't see.
Such subtle scenes,
that do draw blades toward me,
can't help but bleed.

Heavy with mourning,
you sick, sad, stark-end sky,
find me foreign dreams
and back to this edge,
will seek to meet my glory.
If I could find your face,
in my harrowing night lands,
I'd tell you so,
I love you too and as it grows...[/font]