bkwill

Red light dreams beneath the screams of everlasting silence violence that lives in loves defiance. My bed whispers sweet but nothing is all I hear, the fear of the darkest sleep is always so near complete perfection.

Red is the color of night casting dreams
And moments seem to linger longer
Than they seem.
The unseen pleasures
of our minds eye,
Leads us not from our hearts
But to our beds,
Where as lovers we meet as one.
Summers sun has long been forgotten
As Autum sleeps in her icy bed.
But the warmth of two bodies are stronger than one,
Even if loves dead.
But love never dies it lives to be loved.
So our cycles continue,
And our lives continue,
Our dreams continue until the end.
When the sunlight shines,
And the moonlight waits,
To hear the gentle whispers
From our bed.

Against the night sky the red light gleams casting dreams of sleep to catch my mind's eye. Pitter patter clitter clatter, whiskers out the cat's meow. Hours escape from minutes, while seconds steal home.

-These poems were spawned from a lonely night of comfort, warmed with Tequila and chilled by the wind. The cat cried beneath the Red Light over my desk, and I happen to have a pen in hand. They are presented here in order of conception.

Throw Away (It came out not complete)

Tippity-Tap, Tippity-Tap, Clickity clack clock. Nocturnal injections of perfections ressurections, burns past discretion, to let the world know. Silence, screams, dreams, and themes,
Proof that my worlds collide.