Silenc'd, by dreary skies of Love's night,
wander, bewildered, in galleries of moonlight.
Though thou sayest, our hearts will'st be broken,
taking seraphim tastes of lithium,
will thou step'st aside, and let gracility be spoken.
Runn'st away have you, shallowed seas apart,
conceded - bid adieu, siphon thou blacken'd language from thy heart.
Drown'st in those seas thy hast,
aboard sunken ships - clutching lame mast.
Violet flavoured etches thy tears hast shamed
'pon sanctuaries thou say'est by thy love and death are named,
can not such brutal serpent tongues be gently tamed.
Thy wrist hast so been well written upon,
with jagged stars thou cast beneath thy head,
as I wept and slept through 'til dreary dawn.
And hath thou let'st thyself become dead,
and well bury'd thy soul within cemeteries brusque,
here I do run and melt together - taking hands, with dusk.
Oh dearest, hast thou truthfully disappeared,
and step'st upon silent waterfalls as I have always feared -
thou would'st; pushing thy arms away, left to grip only pains,
the sickest of poison rushing through thy invisible veins.
In angel's hands thou stripped from your finger -
a silver diamond ring, pronouncing us Queen and King.
Those memories thou did not wish to have linger,
and thou cried to the angel! say'est "This was his"
now forever I know; A distance there is....
***Had to submit this one under 'Slang' 'cause the bloody stupid site thinks Older English is slang. Gah, it makes me bloody angry as Hell...enjoy anyways.***