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unboundMy tongue and teeth are rudder and sail The salt whipped peaks are poor mountains tonight. Standing forward, setting words to the wind to take me home I thank the small freshness in the spray that blesses my face And hide the fear that I am bound to the ocean I know.unbound
My smile is wearing thin And the cracked teeth and forked tongue that hide behind Do not promise the liberty they once did.
by ~chalky64
The Young WinterHe paces forward; she glides away. He stalks through the shadows; she stands proud in her own sunlight, defying him to venture any closer. In the depths of his own bitter coldness, he yearns for her. He yearns for her heat, for her light, for the life she holds that he will never know.The Young Winter
He scours the land, turning fields and forests white and dead as he passes. He does it through misery and spite; why should they be happy? Why should they savour the golden caress of her, when they offer nothing back? He would be good to her; he would be her servant lover, forever at her call. In exchange for just a touch of her warmth.
by ~chalky64
Thorn in my sideBlame it on emotion.Thorn in my side
Always, always that thorn in the side of the rational. You can learn to recognise its effects; how and where the sudden current will take you off course, or thrust you along the mental channel you were content to drift through. You can learn to swim beneath the turbulent waters, in the dark, cleansing depths, free from the almost random eddies that would confuse your passage. Cool blue water on all sides, and you in the centre, light and free. At least, you think you can.
But it is dark down there in the depths, and the pressure crushes at your lungs, and the water is cold as steel and suck
by ~chalky64
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- Current Residence: Leeds
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