sallekhana
Well-known member
a faucet is like a garden puking flowers on the world;
its the life that beams as petals,
that fills the sink and retreats down the hole.
but in the dead of winter all the pipes are frozen over
and the gardens dry and sober
where the life had once took over
and the leafs have lost their color
when the women find their lover
and the men build them a fire
it is only just a cover
there is still a bit of life that hides beneathe in slumber.
a fire is like a dancer in the dark;
its the love that fills the heart,
thats only felt under the stars.
but in the waking of the dawn the dance will b seen
and the fire put to sleep
where the love had filled their dreams
and the ash dance in the breeze
when the drunk pull back their sheets
and the sober start to drink
it is only just a dream
there is still a bit of love that hides beneathe in sleep.
its the life that beams as petals,
that fills the sink and retreats down the hole.
but in the dead of winter all the pipes are frozen over
and the gardens dry and sober
where the life had once took over
and the leafs have lost their color
when the women find their lover
and the men build them a fire
it is only just a cover
there is still a bit of life that hides beneathe in slumber.
a fire is like a dancer in the dark;
its the love that fills the heart,
thats only felt under the stars.
but in the waking of the dawn the dance will b seen
and the fire put to sleep
where the love had filled their dreams
and the ash dance in the breeze
when the drunk pull back their sheets
and the sober start to drink
it is only just a dream
there is still a bit of love that hides beneathe in sleep.
