I look into your tear-some eyes with profundity. I scout with a penetrating gaze and see your realm of watery graves.   Those eyes of yours are the gates, beyond the reeking eyes is an abysmal mind.   The anguish welled within, there I meet you to bathe...

Under the winter day’s whispery glow, all is quiet here. This is my shattering. No more hymns of breath. Just waiting beside my tombstone. Dressed wildly in vines of time. Had you been a ghost too, would you have noticed me? Must death be the only way? Bound now...

feelings I have turn round in my mindthoughts on a collision course with yourssomewhere on the aether they touchmingling on the windsmaking love to your auramy sexy fire rains a storm of dreamsmy essence flys yours stops my soul...