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sanguineous
|
...you,
a nomad,
a wanderer,
through the harsh terrains
of my crested conscience,
[-the valley of your very demise.]
sit and wait
like a preditor
ready to feast upon it's prey.
so robust,
yet...
so subtle
as a whisper tangled in the wind,
soft spoken and undefined...
you are a masterpiece in the making.
the creation of such beauty
so gracefully wrapped in chaos.
and i want you all to myself,
no fear for my selfish side showing...
but my written words
are all in this reality
that i have to offer
so i hope it's enough
to hold your heart.
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050515
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