Venasa

Part 1 Beats jumpstart this heart 
 Laying wait in the dark 
Are the things id do before we part 
Days in weeks still to chart, Wrap your legs round this fire 
 As it burns to twist meanings of ire,
 For those days which kept your lips from mine 
 So that every kiss is gasping time, 
And the sharpness calls to its own death 
 Life to share and imbue through flesh,
 With the salt gracing each flick of the tougue 
Because here love is earth and earth is love,
 Supernovas wave to meet in the dark
 Beneath our sight wrought so stark, 
 We will always know, 
 We

Hollow hearts on a sunday night, or maybe filled with love without respite. Padding through a forest dark, yet warm in its held breath, so that I am the life realised next. Maybe I don't want you here in my arms, perhaps I wish to resonate the hole in my heart, hear the songs sung by dead men no longer whole, tones no matter true always a toll. Am I a romantic true? Always caught in love but never with you, yes there are those that love for love itself, who would spill blood to turn white roses red, who’d cry in the rain to say they’d bled. Nay that is not I, how could I lament a smile upon my face until skin has taken its tra

There you lay resting, without the world around you vested, free from all but the most familial chains and hoping to come beneath familiar hands. Distance though is our great bane, as you begin to slip away, nothing shared in binary silence, lost behind dozing eyelids. My wish is borne upon the air, to kiss and gentle beauty fair, perhaps it will live in your dozed dreams, a place where we may come to be, free from life's such squalid demands, to taste in ecstasy whats held in arms. To explore what we may truly be, know what is held afore and within me. Yes sweet dreams ye who grasps my heart as if one day there may be a clasp, I shall sit in

what be this? a sudden hollowness? Whereat thou come from? when wilt thou leave? are ye yonder's flower come to weave my heart fonder? I wish her here now, to wrap thine arms, enclose thy brow, touch thee lips to life beneath thine skin, and let I bask in all as kin...

There you lay resting, without the world around you vested, free from all but the most familial chains.. and hoping to come beneath familiar hands. Distance though is our great bane, as you begin to slip away, nothing shared in binary silence, lost behind dozing eyelids. My wish is borne upon the air, to kiss and gentle beauty fair, Perhaps it will live in your dozed dreams, a place where we may come to be, free from life's such squalid demands, to taste in ecstasy whats held in arms. To explore what we may truly be, know what is held afore and within me. Yes sweet dreams ye who grasps my heart as if one day there may be a cla

Well there we are again, the past has always haunted them. Those that cling too tight to the cold, if theres no warmth then the warmth is told. Its hard though to walk that line so far from time, well our time as made today, where the single man rules our way. I wish not to grimace and hide in shame, to feel my heart swell and make waves of pain, I would like to throw my head back and laugh at fate, but how can I when my eyes see that date. Where she screamed and blamed the world, on a boy who chose lust over sibling turmoil. I guess too that I have always feared the joke, though thats what reality always wished to invoke. As if my lesson

Whisper my love, whisper, whisper, For if we are heard... our fate may but twitter, Until all the threads lark away, & we are left with a lute that cannot play. So whisper my love Until we are woven, Till none but ours can be chosen & we shall shine with all that is of this world, blind will be those who could not say of the world. Yes, whisper my love, For one day we shall yell, No accursed guns will ever prevail, We will clutch one another in deepest breath, & let them know what was done without death. Whisper my love, whisper, whisper, For i hear the boots marching thither, & tonight will be to all dearth as winter, Lock our love ti

If memories are golden & my life is now grey, then you are the colour, gently bleeding in shape. Every time is a paintbrush, every thought its foray, each stroke now breathed, complementing in taste, & although love is colourblind, so as portraits we might stay, the sun cannot dull you, back to a shade....