Once We walked together on the burning walls of Babylon, hand in hand
Rejoicing in the dying of the light together as one, even as the edifice fell
and We ceased to understand each other.
Separated We were on the day the Holy vessel was pierced spilling divine
port on the sand. For We could not bear to be forgivin.
Riven for nearly two Millenia until I sat perched on an Austrians thin
shoulder whispering madness and You found me.
Whole once more and hand in hand We walk the burning walls as before.
The Edifice broken anew and My Loves voice restored to Me.
Crainte non mon amour together forevermore and after.
To the dying of the light.
Rejoicing in the dying of the light together as one, even as the edifice fell
and We ceased to understand each other.
Separated We were on the day the Holy vessel was pierced spilling divine
port on the sand. For We could not bear to be forgivin.
Riven for nearly two Millenia until I sat perched on an Austrians thin
shoulder whispering madness and You found me.
Whole once more and hand in hand We walk the burning walls as before.
The Edifice broken anew and My Loves voice restored to Me.
Crainte non mon amour together forevermore and after.
To the dying of the light.
jediapocrypha:
Hello to the DaRkNeSs my freind and keeper of that KerNal that is my soul. A little place deep inside where monsters and LoVe stare endlessly at one another in the dimming firelight. Fearing completion of what was and the future that does not exist I race against my perception of the LiE that is tiME. Stars bring radiance to to the eyes willing to see but have been gone before we created SeLF. Safe in the arms of the Lover I was not ready to withstand I cry for the things never said. Behold My shadow walks behind me though he cannot see over my shoulder to the waste of perdition ,hard won and struggled for like paradise on a winters day. Fragile blowing in the wind, undeserving of gifts of pity and hate, scratching at the door locked tight against the danger of terminal endearment within my mind. I rise again clinging to the mists of dream, sand flowing from my fingertips a reminder of death and her love of the imperfect nature indeed. Cry to try or try to CrY evermore enduring, once touched thrice cursed and badly in need of an overhaul. So once more I remember that this is not my life and the mirror cannot lie to me because it does not exist. Deep breaths, fear and indecisive hearts kill as surely as being born. Tomorrow when I light my morning and exhale the evidence of fire and apathy I will be born again. Tomorrow everything will make sense. Tomorrow....